Partners in Crime (Read: Heroics)
by FoxboroSalts
Summary: "Come on, Minato," the woman whined. "Some sidekick you are. It's probably not as bad as you make it out to be… I think."
1. I

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 ** _Author's Notes:_** _Thanks for your interest!_

* * *

0.0

* * *

' _I'm sorry…'_

Arisato Minato still dreamt about it.

In fact, the image of his saviour had stayed with him―long past the memory. It would have been hard to forget her amber eyes peering up at him, her hand raising to rest a finger before her glossy pink lips; those lips had parted briefly and mouthed that small word of apology.

That was all he had gotten from her.

Nothing more.

All there was afterwards… was pain.

It was a mockery, at best; a cruel ironic twist, at its worst. It felt like a higher power, far beyond what he could fathom, had tugged at the strings of the universe to put him here.

"Stop daydreaming," the stout middle-aged man said. "Complacency breeds, Arisato. Only if you allow it to. I've seen lesser talents go to waste."

A restless sigh escaped his opponent, rebuking him with a baleful stare. The man shook his head, and with a flick of his padded gloves, lowered the protective face-guard back in place. His opponent resumed his stance, settling his hands over the bokken placed at his hips.

"Come," was all Takahara Shinji, his sparring partner, said.

Murmuring a quiet apology, Minato offered a short bow to the older man. Exhaling, he took slow, measured steps across the length of the small practice area, before his strides gradually lengthened into a full-blown sprint. He met Takahara halfway, their wooden swords clashing together for the briefest of moments.

Several lifetimes' worth of experience bled into him; experience not of his own.

In the vast ocean of his subconscience, the surface rippled. Without singling out one of his manifestations, plenty fought for his attention. Flashes of memories played out in his mind's eye. It was memories of unearthly skill, of indiscriminate mayhem, of domination by sheer strength, and of elegance in motion. The background and methods differed, but the crux of the memories were the same.

Blood was shed.

And the victor alone stood tall…

Minato ducked and spun into the attack, running his blade across the length of his opponent's own. Digging the balls of his feet into the mat, he switched his grip on the hilt, and manoeuvred it into an angled thrust, springing upwards, straight at Takahara's unguarded neck.

A heartbeat later, the helmet clattered to the mat in a dull 'thump'.

"Once more," the man groused, rubbing at his neck, "until I'm satisfied."

"As you wish."

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Thank you, Takahara-san."

Arisato Minato took the proffered sports drink, and rolled it between his palms, allowing the cool metal to ease his aching hands.

The older man waved away his thanks. Standing outside a nearby convenience store, Takahara dug into a cheap onigiri set; one that had been a steady staple of Minato's diet―in his old life and his current one.

"You know, Arisato," Takahara said, mumbling around his food. It was strange just how different he was outside practice. "That school of yours, UA… Honestly, the talent pool must be incredible. I didn't think too much of you when you first started here."

He offered Minato an apologetic glance, slapping him on the arm.

"Being in the Department of General Education, I thought you'd be a bit… _lacking_ , but I was wrong. You could have gone toe-to-toe with any one of my alma mater's Hero graduates. Not quite sure who'd win though… But don't let it get to you, Arisato. I'm sure you made the right choice in transferring to UA. The competition will do you good. Not like you're getting it from me," Takahara said, laughing. "Maybe you could even try moving up to their Hero track, if you apply yourself. That's about as prestigious as it gets."

He must have made a face because Takahara frowned. "Why? From what I've seen, you're more than capable enough."

"I'm happy where I am."

"Look, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with being content," Takahara said. "You're young. You've got your whole life in front of you, but that won't last. Trust me. One day you might wake up, and regret anything and everything. You got potential, Arisato. You could be one of those rare few that will leave their mark on this world, _if_ you work hard at it. That drive; having purpose in your life… It's important."

Minato gave a non-committal hum.

The awkwardness lingered, causing Takahara to sigh.

"I didn't mean to sound like this old man knows best, but think about it, will you? I'm gonna take a quick hit and run back to the dojo." Takahara pulled out a pack of cigarettes and began hitting it against the back of his hand. "You run along now. I don't want people thinking I'm polluting young, impressionable minds. See you tomorrow, Arisato. Give my best to Yao-chan if you see her!"

Minato offered a short bow and his salutations to Takahara as he left.

He didn't keep track of the time as he started his trek back to his sublet apartment. It was already dark out, and there was little else to do but watch as the rush of human traffic passed him by.

There wasn't much to differentiate the minutiae between his world and this.

It was safe to assume that it was a mirror-perfect replica of his own Tokyo. To be fair, the reality of this world was vastly different. The advent and subsequent proliferation of Quirks had altered the very fabric of society. As if to prove his point, a cat-person rushed past him, ears glued to his cellphone. Minato could hear him chattering on about a potential business deal.

It took a little getting used to when he first arrived all those months ago.

He had simply appeared in a run-down alley, albeit the location was suspect, with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Half-incapacitated, he had blearily emerged to a busy intersection. The glare of dozens of neon lights and the mindless, incomprehensible white noise from both passers-by and the general traffic did nothing to ease the monster thrashing about in his skull.

Then, almost all at once, it stopped. Like a picture-book, the crowd stood, transfixed at the sight of the digital billboard above them.

The news segment gave way to a live broadcast, capturing nothing but a broad back at first. The shot refocused and panned out, revealing a hulking behemoth of a man, garbed in an eye-catching, multi-coloured spandex. A short, but destructive battle ensued, but it wasn't long before the man towered over his mangled foe; a strange mess of feathery limbs and teeth.

As if aware that he was on air, he sent a grin over his shoulder, propping his thumb up. Just like that, the spell was broken, and the crowd broke out in raucous cheers.

Back then, Minato didn't know why but he had started laughing as he crouched his knees to his forehead. The sudden peal of delirious laughter that bubbled out of his throat slowly subsided, and the emotions that remained, the memories of a previous life―

"Hey, w-watch where you're going!" a bespectacled man said, slurring.

Minato rubbed at the spot on his arm, where they had collided. He didn't say anything, but offered an apologetic bow.

"Damn kids! Absolutely no manners to 'em," the man grumbled, swaying lightly on his feet as he walked away. "It's them Quirks. Goddamn powers messing with their heads. Schools ain't teaching the right values no more. Everything's got to be flashy nowadays; got no more substance to 'em."

Minato stood to the side, resting his back against the shutters of an abandoned store. He was close to his apartment, a few more minutes off. The crowd of people had thinned the further he walked. It was in a run-down neighbourhood, quite a ways off the city centre.

He mulled over Takahara's advice.

He had a purpose, but that was in his previous life―purpose driven by the bonds he had created. Here, he was no one; just another face in the crowd.

Yet, despite all the differences he had seen…

 _Apathy._

He heard voices, in hushed but aggravated tones, coming from the nearby alley. No one else around him seemed to have noticed, as sparse as the passers-by were.

 _Anger._

There was a distinct _'bang'_ , like something had been forcefully knocked over.

 _Fear._

He heard a whimper; a woman, quietly pleading. He peered around the corner, spying a gaggle of men―three of them―surrounding a blonde-haired woman.

It was still the same. At its core, humanity could and would never change. The darkness that dwelled within the collective unconscious was like a crushing torrent. No matter how hard one swam, it was inevitable to be pulled under and swept beneath it.

Elizabeth had given him a second chance in this world; one where he could decide his path in life without interference. Still, Minato was an alien here and he had no designs on being another Pro Hero to the masses. He couldn't walk away, however; not when he had the power to right the wrongs before him.

Without an evoker, his abilities were limited, but he was never helpless. The well of power inside him remained.

When Minato closed his eyes, the image of blood and fire came to mind. It was a story as old as time; of a masked deity that had been banished by its creator for biting the hand that fed.

Rakshasa, the 'maneater', demanded the stage.

He tempered the alien bloodlust inside him. Instead, another came to the fore, and he allowed the divine being entry. While Rakshasa was a being of slaughter and depravity, the persona he had chosen was its antithesis.

Minato found comfort in its familiarity. The contentment of feeling whole again was welcomed, like fitting the final jigsaw piece in place. No words were exchanged. Rarely was there a need to, but sometimes it was nice to acknowledge it.

"Thank you, Hanuman."

 _Hanuman._

The patron god of martial arts.

Flashes of a life not his own came to him; the memories were otherworldly. First, there was praise, then came the adulation―outright worship simply became the afterthought. He was revered as a bastion of courage and fortitude, but yearned for nothing more than to devote his being to the god, Rama. He had, since time immemorial, lived up to that quixotic existence.

That was why, despite his appearance, Hanuman embodied the virtues of human excellence, one of which was self-control.

Wanton destruction wasn't on his agenda tonight.

His steps become lighter as he took to the alley, finding a degree of limberness that had not been present before. Minato tugged his bokken from its bag, shifting and twirling the wooden blade in his hand. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his eyes. It wasn't much in way of protecting his identity, but it was dark enough to obscure his face, if he kept to the shadows.

"Oi, Ryuuji… There's someone coming," he heard one of the men say.

"Huh? 'the hell is this circus act?"

Ryuuji had the bearings of the leader of this motley crew. He wore loud, extravagant clothes, gaudy jewellery, and had the most unfortunate beady eyes Minato had ever seen. He had taken his hand off the wall, allowing Minato an unhindered view of their captive.

The woman was like something out of a magazine; long blonde hair, sharp features, and the body to go with it. The rather plain office attire she wore seemed almost scandalous in the way it hugged her curves.

Minato had wanted to say something then, to warn them off, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss.

The woman looked the part of a damsel in distress, but beyond the tears and the polished grimace of terror on her face, it was her eyes―her large, violet eyes―that told him as much.

They were too composed.

She was in control here, and not the other way around.

"I'm sorry," Minato said, bowing. "I'll take my leave. Excuse me."

"Guh, wait― _Kyaa!_ " The blonde shrieked, crossing her arms over her chest. A finger poked out from her shoulders, gesturing to an as-of-yet-named goon. Well, one of them. "He just groped me! Devil! Molester! Satanist!"

Twin cries of 'I/he didn't touch you' rang out. Minato wanted to point out the same. In fact, the whole situation had been turned on its head.

It was bizarre.

"I get it now. It's a goddamn honey trap," Ryuuji growled, giving Minato the once-over. "And you're supposed to be the ringer? Gonna bait me with some pictures you took? Well, I won't have it! I worked hard to get to where I am! You don't own a chain of pachinko parlours by tripping over every wannabe that gets in your way! W-Where the hell do you think you're going?"

At this point, Minato had started to ever so slowly back out of the alley.

" _Wah~~_ Someone! Anyone! Save me~~!"

"Go! Get him! Get his phone! I want those pictures back!"

Without any further prompts, Ryuuji's underlings charged towards him at full tilt. Arguing at this point would have been pointless; any objections would have fallen on deaf ears.

Minato took half a step back. Blowing out a breath, he reared down on one knee as he slung his bokken over his shoulders.

His practice sessions with Takahara had been just that―practice. It had never devolved beyond their swords. The man had been adamant. Quirks had no place within his training hall. In this world, weapons like his were often nothing more than antiquities. It was left to people like Takahara to fly the flag of a bygone era.

Quirks were still something relatively unknown to him. It was all too easy to compare Shadows and Quirks. Certain subsets of Shadows could be identified by their appearance. The heroes of this world did the same here with their costumes.

Sadly, t-shirts and jeans weren't much of a give-away, so Minato erred on the side of caution. Thankfully, the contrasting green and red of their shirts helped to separate the duo.

Green stopped short suddenly, slamming a fist into the ground. A hint of hesitation welled within Minato when he noticed his hands sink through the concrete, as if it was water, burying it up to his elbows.

Instincts not of his own all but screamed at him to move.

A spindly concrete fist came barrelling from the side of the building next to him, almost grazing him. Another came for him, expected this time, but it emerged from the ground. It forced him into the air, using the now-inanimate fist as a perch.

Green scowled as he pulled his fists back, and Minato hopped down on solid footing, just as the concrete fist sunk back into the ground.

"You're quick, kid," Red said. "But are you quick enough to handle the both of us?"

Red reached for his slick back hair, and mussed it up. Then with a warring cry, he started spiking it forward, like he was trying to shake off dandruff. The ground before Minato rippled and threw up concrete stalagmites.

Huh…

Quirks were weird like that.

What happened next was almost like being on auto-pilot. Aided by the unnatural grace of Hanuman, he manoeuvred around the combined efforts of the relentless duo. Each step inched him ever closer to his adversaries, and Minato could sense the apprehension and desperation, as their attacks met nothing but empty air.

There wasn't a point to prolonging this any longer.

Whatever small thrill of adrenaline that flooded him earlier was gone. He could feel apathy coming from his persona. Only a being like Hanuman could have made sense of the chaotic onslaught before him and pick out the pattern inside it.

Minato obliged and moved, ducking beneath and weaving around a rush of concrete stalagmites. It was a split-second blur that decided the fight. He was close―close enough to see the sweat dotting their brows―close enough that when he pulled the bokken from his hip, the wooden blade swung in a controlled diagonal arc and found its mark at Red's temple.

There was to be no rest, no reprieve for Green.

Green was crouched, paralysed. There was only time for the fear and apprehension to reach his eyes before Minato, shifting his grip on the plain hilt, brought the blade down upon his opponent's head with two hands.

Surveying his handiwork, Minato noted that there was a refined efficiency to his brutality. He then whispered a word of gratitude to his persona as Hanuman returned to the sea of souls.

"Thanks, kid," the woman called out to Minato. Her eyes were fixed on a phone as her thumbs blurred in front of the screen. "The other mook left by the way, but I got what I wanted from him―for now."

He couldn't let himself be seen. With this lighting, he could see her just as well as she could see him. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt tighter over his head.

Minato turned to leave.

"You got some moves on you," she said, putting the phone away. "Guess it's not your first night out, huh? I didn't know you UA kids could go around gallivanting as vigilantes. Your provisional license might get revoked if they catch you swinging your sword around like that just for the hell of it."

Minato kept his voice low.

"I'm not from UA."

"Ehhh~~ Then why are you wearing a UA sweatshirt? They don't really sell that kinda merch outside."

He stiffened, reaching for the front of his hoodie, then quickly realised his mistake. It was still spring; his fall and winter clothes were still stored in his wardrobe. These were his personal effects. Minato had been caught flat-footed. Turning slightly, he sought her eyes―they were just as sharp as ever. The smile she gave off was like a cat toying with its food.

"Oh ho! So you are from UA?" she said, coy. "For what it's worth, you did help me get out of this 'pick-pick-pickle'. We'll keep this a secret between us. But~~ If you want to come clean, you could always come wo―H-Hey!"

Without another word, Minato ran.

* * *

0.0

* * *

Takeyama Yu was alone.

In an alley.

It didn't smell or anything. She wasn't a connoisseur either. But as far as alleys go, it wasn't the worst she had ever seen. However, she found herself tapping her foot relentlessly; the phone held aside, forgotten. She was eyeing the entrance, where her pseudo-saviour had just been previously.

It just doesn't happen.

People didn't just run away from her. Well… maybe they did by virtue of her Quirk. Seeing a twenty-metre tall war goddess usually evoked 'fight or flight' tendencies when she was hurtling their way.

But people didn't ignore her. You see, it―

"―just doesn't happen," she muttered to herself, gesturing with the phone to an unseen audience.

"What doesn't just happen?"

It wasn't hard to place the voice.

It was deep, confident, yet tinged with a hint of confusion. Ignoring the last bit, every man, woman and child could guess who it was, given that at a particular point in their lives, they probably wished to be him.

Even her.

"All Might," she said, turning to face him with a winning smile.

Yu had heard it mentioned before in the Pro Hero circles―about their personal encounters with All Might and the sheer presence he exude. They weren't lying. She had met him before, a few times even, but that was only in passing and at a distance.

Not like this.

She had to practically crane her neck at a ninety degree angle just to see his face. It had never been this intimate. It was just the two of them… in an alley. Which, as far as clandestine meetings went, wasn't the worst she ever had.

Gosh, he was dreamy up close.

The way his brows scrunched in thought, the gleam of recognition reaching his shadowed eyes, him snapping his large hand…

 _Snap!_

She unconsciously flinched.

"Ah ha! Aren't you Mount Lady? We've met before, haven't we? You're quite new to the Pro Hero scene―barely under a year? Excuse me for saying this, but it's hard to put a name to a face without a costume."

Yu couldn't help but smile wider. "Y-You know who I am?"

"Of course. You've done some good work since your debut―very spirited, very able. You have a lot going on for your future, young miss. Keep it up," he said, propping a thumbs up.

She would have swooned into his muscular arms, but her professionalism kept her on her feet. It did little, however, to stall a small giggling fit.

"Bwahahaha! Yes!"

That was just how she giggled―with her head and scrunched hands raised to the heavens. Plenty of her fans have said that it was an endearingly cute gesture.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm better than all right, All Might! Having my idol and the 'No. 1' Pro Hero say that to me… You just made my entire year," Yu said. "Uhm, do you mind if I get a selfie? I need to update my SNS followers."

"Perhaps later. You're out of costume. It would be inappropriate for your identity to be known to the general public."

"Then just a quick personal―"

"Was this your doing?" All Might cut in, surveying the area. "I was nearby when I heard the sounds of battle; rushed here the moment I could. It didn't last very long, did it? And the level of destruction… it's relatively tame. Quite unlike you, young miss."

Yu bit the inside of her cheek.

There it was again…

"It's Yu," she said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"My name," Yu repeated, licking her suddenly dry lips. "My name is Yu. Takeyama Yu." She smiled again, this time strained. "Or you could just call me by my hero name. Calling me 'young miss' makes me sound…"

She left it hanging intentionally.

"My apologies, Takeyama-san. It was rude of me."

"It's a minor thing, really." When Yu smiled, she made sure that her eyes crinkled. "Anyway, sorry about the mess here. I was just following up on a lead sans costume. It got a little heated."

She gestured at her state of dress, then at the scene around her.

"Uhm, you mind looking the other way about all this? I'd rather they wake up and run back to their boss. I'm working towards something here. I already relayed a message up to despatch that I'll be keeping an eye on them. Pinky promise!"

"Is that so?" All Might said, rubbing his chin. "Were you alone?"

Yu laughed, saying, "I'm no slouch, All Might. I could handle myself without my Quirk. But I did have a friendly neighbourhood hero drop by to help me. Didn't catch his name, sadly. He was the strong, silent type."

"Someone new perhaps?"

Yu hid a frown. She had tried to deflect attention away from the vigilante, but there were witnesses in the form of the unconscious mooks. It wouldn't do to lie to All Might. "Possibly. There's quite a number of rookies popping up lately. Say, how's life at UA? The students in that school must be on a whole different level than the rest of us, huh? Getting trained by All Might, no less… Fuah~~"

The switch in topic seemed to galvanise her latest alley buddy.

"I still have plenty to learn, Takeyama-san. This may sound superficial, but I honestly believe that the students under my charge have as much to teach me as I do them. It is a humbling experience. Shaping and moulding the minds of the next generation is no easy feat. The responsibility of it can be quite daunting."

"Anyone promising you have an eye on?"

"There are a number of talented seniors that I believe are ready to take it to the next level. Why do you ask?"

Yu ducked her head down, smiling shyly. "Well, I'm looking at the next level too. I did just open my agency recently."

"That is a splendid idea, Takeyama-san! It will be a rewarding journey, not just for the student, but for yourself as well!"

"Haha… don't mind, don't mind. It was just a stray thought, but hearing you say all this has me convinced." Yu took a finger to her chin, saying, "Still, I don't think I'm all that experienced yet to be able to accept that kind of responsibility, especially if it's a first-year. I'd prefer to have someone with a teensy bit more experience to help me handle my day-to-day issues. The hard part is that most of the older students would already have ties to other agencies, right?"

"Well, certainly not all of them. There are still students seeking newer and better experiences out there. I'm sure you've heard of our annual Sports Festival that will take place next week? Bear in mind, there'll be plenty of scouts in attendance. But who knows? You might find the perfect candidate there."

Yu laughed lightly, but failed to hide the eagerness in her eyes. "I'm not the type patient enough to wait a whole week. But, who knows… Just out of sheer coincidence, I might get lucky and stumble into him tomorrow."

"That would sound like more than just a coincidence."

"Bwahahaha! You're silly, All Might. But enough of that. Say… You think I could get that picture now? Pretty please~~?"

* * *

0.0

* * *

Arisato Minato yawned.

The school bell chimed in tandem, signalling the end of the school day. Like clockwork, he removed his well-used PE-03 P-ATL audio system from his bag and donned one of the earpiece, leaving the spare one free.

He felt like it should have come sooner, especially after a brutal double period of World History. While it was a subject that required more memorisation than mental gymnastics, it was still a chore to learn an entirely different timeline than the one in his world. He had considered repeating from the first year initially, but the idea of being two years older than his classmates was unappealing to say the least. Aiming for the best school in the country was another mistake on his part.

Maybe he could still ask for a transfer…

He bade farewell to his homeroom teacher, Snipe, and a few of his classmates on the way out. Plenty were cordial with him, but these were students who had grown up together in the last three years, having already formed their own cliques. To them, he was simply a passenger in class.

It wasn't ideal, but the arrangement suited him well enough.

Just as he made his way to the door, it slid open, revealing a wall of grey. He hadn't bothered to look up at that point because a large, calloused hand reached down to pat him on his shoulder.

It was emasculating.

He wasn't _that_ small.

"Ah, Arisato-kun! How goes your studies? It must not be easy acclimating to a new school. I hope you haven't found it too stressful."

This was unexpected.

A teacher interacting with a student at school was normal. However, having the symbol of peace and the icon of the Pro Hero world know his name, his background even, was odd, to say the least. Worse, he was distinctly aware that all the eyes in the room were focused on him.

"I'm coping, sir."

"I'm very glad to hear that, son," All Might said, his smile revealing a perfect set of teeth. "Very glad indeed. Now, where are you off to so soon? Club activities? Say…" There wasn't a point given how tall he was, but All Might did the motion of peeking around his back, at the plain black utility bag that held his bokken. "That wouldn't happen to be a shinai, would it?"

"It's… similar. Practising helps me focus."

"Good on you! Some say swordsmanship is a forgotten art. It'd be a waste to lose such a precious part of our history just because of the times we live in today."

It was incomprehensible how, on the surface, it sounded like mundane small talk. To him, it felt like it was a chess match against a grandmaster; one where his opponent saw through his moves from the beginning.

"I'm sorry, sir. I have to go. My shift is about to start."

"Ah, don't let me keep you then. I was just making a quick house call to Snipe." All Might squeezed his frame against the door to let him through, not before snapping a sharp salute. "Safe travels, Arisato-kun!"

Removing himself from the classroom, Minato noticed that All Might passed along the same conciliatory greetings to some of his classmates. It made it seem like their short interaction was nothing out of the ordinary.

Still, as he made his way out of the campus and into the city proper, lost in the mass of students making their way out, he couldn't help but feel all of this wasn't entirely coincidental after last night's affairs. It was hard to place, like a pinprick at the back of his neck, but he had the eerie feeling that he was being watched.

…

Why were there so many people waving? And why were they so many men with cameras out all of a sudden?

Minato looked up and frowned.

How in the hell did he miss _that_?

What towered above him was something out of a Super Sentai series. It was a Pro Hero he had heard plenty about, but was fortunate to never come across, given the wanton destruction she could inadvertently cause just by tripping over her own two feet.

The woman wore a purple skin-tight vest over a nude-coloured bodysuit. The outfit, lined with an orange accent, was designed with sharp, vertical "V's" that drew the attention downwards. However, Minato was drawn to her domino mask, where two horned appendages ran along the sides of her temples, poking out from her long, blonde hair.

Her violet eyes, the same ones he had seen last night, positively gleamed, when their eyes met.

Mount Lady bowed at the waist, half-crouching, to gesture at a four-storey tall signboard with a finger. A mini-version of her was on the billboard in an exaggerated pose. Next to her, a text box read: ' _The Agency of Mount Lady Is Currently Recruiting!_ '. Then, in the smaller fine print, it said: _'Only Short-listed Candidates Will Be Notified'_.

 **"Everyone, I look forward to receiving all your wonderful applications!"** Mount Lady said. **"Those UA students in the crowd! Please remember to take my agency into consideration. Your future career as a Pro Hero is important. I won't spare any expense or time to hone you into the shield that protects our society!"**

The kiss and the wink at the end brought about a rousing ovation from the mostly-male crowd.

Minato didn't think about running away this time. It would be counter-intuitive. Besides, his shift was about to start soon. So, he continued on his way, knowing that the pair of eyes were following him.

It didn't take long.

She was waiting for him further along the road, in her normal size this time. It wasn't hard to see because she was surrounded by men; all of whom were glued to their cameras, shouting for her attention as their camera flashes went off like a dizzying light-show. When she saw him, she squeezed her way out. There was a lot of waving and smiling to her fans, much to their disappointment.

"Yahoo, stranger~~ You're not as tall, dark and handsome as I'd thought you'd be."

Minato continued walking.

"It's a joke, just a joke. C'mon, I never got to thank you for last night. It was… fun." She held onto his utility bag, tugging him back. "Well, no rewards for guessing what you're hiding inside this thing."

"Calligraphy set."

Mount Lady smiled winningly. "He speaks! Finally!" She kept pace with him, but walked ahead so that she was in his face. "Ne, ne, what's your name?"

He sighed before relenting, "Arisato Minato."

"You're the strong, silent type, huh, Minato? Well, nice to meet'cha. We haven't been formally introduced, but I'm sure you know who I am." At his nod, her smile widened to the point that it was predatory. "Well, of course, a super rookie like me is bound to have her fair share of attention. It's forgivable that you didn't recognise me outside my costume last night."

He made no effort to deny her statement, but offered a withering stare as he turned a corner into the small street that housed his place of employment.

The bell chimed as they walked in.

"Then again, I suppose it is only fair that I tell you my real name," she said, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "But~~ it's gotta be some place more intimate than…" She stopped and looked around, asking, "Minato, why are we in a convenience store?"

"I work here," he said, making a beeline for the back. "Stop following me."

Looking back, her expression soured as she eyed the sterilised walls and orderly aisles lined with immaculately-shelved products. "Ugh, not anymore, you're not."

He wanted to rebut, but stopped himself upon noticing his supervisor, Yuuda-senpai; a man in his mid-twenties with medium-length brown hair. Yuuda was seated at a table at the far end of the small break room, scanning through a sheet attached to a clipboard. He mumbled around a pen:

"Yah, Arisato… last night's stock take didn't tally." Yuuda leaned his head back to look at him. "We're missing a carton of Curry Ramen. It's a real head-scratch―"

Sadly, that was when the heroine poked her head in.

"Mount Lady?!"

"Yahoo~~" Minato was budged up against the door as Mount Lady forced her way into the break room. "You're a fan, I assume?"

"Well," Yuuda said, scratching the back of his head. "In a way. I almost rammed my bike into you once when you were fighting that snake villain last year. Thank All Might, I didn't. The insurance would have been a headache."

"Ahhh, the Anaconda… That fight was a toughie." Mount Lady hung her head down and started blinking, as if in a daze. "I still have lots of 'official' letters for that one lying around."

"So uh, Mount Lady," Yuuda said. "What brings you to the backroom of this particular J-Mart?"

"Ah, that's right." Stamping a fist into her palm, Mount Lady then dragged him over. Minato wouldn't admit it out loud, but he did try to resist; the woman was surprisingly strong. "This young man here," she poked a finger on his cheek, "I'm going to steal him away from you. I want him as my sidekick."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," Mount Lady said, serious. "I'm gonna help him reach his potential. I'm just here to get some character reference."

"Well, Arisato is a valued member of this J-Mart. He's responsible, systematic… downright a perfect worker. I would hate to see him go, but I don't think I could ever stand in the way of anyone's dream."

"You're not," Minato said. "She was just leaving."

Forcibly, he began to nudge the woman towards the door. Well, tried to anyway. She wouldn't budge an inch. Mount Lady held a finger up, oblivious to his plight. "Mah, mah… Let's do that thing that people normally do―Sorry, I meant, normal people do. You know, that thing where no one actually wins, but they each get something in return."

"You mean, compromise?"

"Yes," Mount Lady said, her smile strained. "Let's… compromise. See, I just opened my own agency, and expanding is a very big step for me. It's something you only get right once. Sooo~~ I need Minato to come in and help manage all that complicated stuff as my sidekick!" She smiled at Minato, adding, "If you ever feel that it's not what you want, you can leave whenever you want. I'll even write you a letter of recommendation, complete with an autographed picture too!"

Yuuda was nodding to her words. "That's a sound offer, Arisato. Not a lot of people get these kinds of opportunities, especially at your age. You'd be a knucklehead if you didn't jump at it right now."

"Exactly!"

"I mean, you'd probably earn a lot more there than you do here. Pro Heroes are paid well for all their sacrifices in the line of duty. I'm sure their subordinates are as well."

"Mah, mah… let's not get ahead of ourselves here," Mount Lady stressed, laughing weakly. "He's still just a student, you know."

"I won't get paid?"

"Of course you will! I'm sure we could work out a small stipend for you. I was totally gonna do that anyways. Somewhere between uh… How much do you earn here?"

"Three thousand a day. On average."

"I could match that," Mount Lady mumbled, but hesitated when Minato frowned. "But―But I could probably do you one better, you know. It'll be long hours and lots of hard work, but you'll be fairly rewarded for it. I'm even willing to work around your schedule." She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. He tried not to wince. "Honestly… Where else in Tokyo could you get a boss as amazing and pretty as me?"

Minato looked to Yuuda for guidance.

The man shrugged. "Hard to argue with that."

Minato made a show of mulling it over. "I need to think about it."

As it turned out, it was the wrong thing to say.

"That's no good," Mount Lady said, pouting. "Hey, uh you… I'm bringing Minato along with me. You can manage things here without him for the time being, right?"

"Sure," Yuuda said. "Just swoop him away. That's fine, I guess." He turned to Minato, adding, "There's always going to be a place for you here. Just turn in your schedule if you ever feel like you need to clear an extra shift or two."

"I'm not―"

His reply died on his lips when she got in his face. "Minato… Have you ever seen Tokyo from way up high?"

* * *

0.0

* * *

Arisato Minato realised idly that the woman seated next to him was peculiar, to say the least. In between bites of the famous 'Sky Soft' sundae, she'd share strange nuggets of wisdom; some more horrifying than enlightening.

"They're like ants down there. Teeny, tiny ants," Mount Lady mumbled around her spoon, more to herself than to him. "And it's all just a game. A dancing game… A game where you have to dance around the little ants. _How could you not step on ants?_ " she asked herself, aghast.

Mount Lady wasn't paying attention to him. Instead, her eyes lingered over the horizon.

It was a view unmatched in Tokyo; a panoramic view of the city that could only be offered atop the Tokyo Skytree. They were in its in-house cafe, seated at the far end with a bird's eye view over the city. As they were, their presence went virtually untouched by the odd tourist or two that ventured inside the overpriced establishment. The cafe attendants seemed familiar with her presence, and offered a kind word before resuming their duties.

As it turned out, the heroine had been a mascot for the famous attraction shortly into her career. Minato spied a poster depicting a chibi version of Mount Lady promoting their soft-served ice cream. In a separate bubble, her character laid out of the nutritional facts of said ice-cream, as well as the equivalent number of steps it would take to burn the calories off.

Minato eyed the monstrosity he was holding in his hand.

That was… a lot of steps.

"Mini-me ain't lying. This thing is as sinful as it is delicious." Mount Lady snorted before adding, "Being a Pro Hero has its perks, but it shouldn't surprise you that it comes with a _lot_ of red tape. When I first started out, there wasn't a lot that a rookie like me could do, especially given what I _could_ do. In the end, I came up here a lot―sometimes to think and sometimes to get lost in that giant puzzle you see in front of you." She sighed wistfully. "Tokyo is a very different place than where I grew up."

Minato raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to continue.

She leaned in and whispered, "I ain't telling. Figure it out yourself. The fun, they say, is in the mystery."

Their conversation lulled into another amiable silence. It was only once he could see through the bottom of the translucent cup that once held his sundae, that he deigned to ask:

"Why me?"

She grinned, the toothy-kind of grin. "You look fun, like a puzzle I get to solve."

Minato tried not to sigh.

"Listen, I've seen pro-rookies bumble their way through a fight because of their nerves, but you… you made beating down goons look pretty. I'm very sure you're not a vigilante; you didn't come looking for a fight last night, and you were sharp enough to know what was going on. That was instinct, experience and talent all mushed into one. It's not something a student should have. The funny thing I found out today is…"

Mount Lady grabbed his lapel and toyed with his school pin; the one that signified his department. "You're not even in the Department of Heroics. So tell me… How could a girl not be interested in you? I don't even know your Quirk and you've already got me this excited."

"It's―"

"Don't ruin it for me! I wanna figure it out by myself!"

"Is that it?"

"Minato… I don't like going into the mushy crap, but… you have a good heart. You saw something wrong, and instead of ignoring it, you came to help. If that doesn't scream 'hero', then I obviously don't know what that word means."

Mount Lady looked increasingly uncomfortable as she went on, "Look! You have lots of good points, is what I'm saying. I'm not gonna bother with the boring rhetoric of what I could teach you to become a Pro Hero. You're not the type to fall for it. All I'm saying is that we could be good for each other―partners in crime good!"

She blinked dumbly. "I meant that figuratively, of course. So, what do you say?" Mount Lady asked, biting her bottom lip. "You wanna be my kick ass sidekick?"

Minato was quiet. Then, he let out a breath.

"Five thousand."

She looked unimpressed. "Don't push it, mister. I'm willing to go up to four, max, but I'll bring you out to eat, like twice a week. Matsuya or somewhere close by―nothing pricey!"

"Agreeable."

Mount Lady cackled, taking his hands in hers and shaking them. "Bwahahaha! Hard to resist me in the end, huh? Well, you won't regret it in the long-run. I'm the type of gal that plays for keeps, and you," she rose up from her seat and booped him on the nose, "are a keeper."

Minato gave her a flat look.

"Whelp, I'd better get back and start on the boring stuff. Schools are such sticklers about safety. I have to get approval for you to come onboard and do up some forms, and _blergh-ge-urgh_ …" She made a face, but perked up almost instantly. "It'll be much better with you around."

She leaned in close; close enough that he could feel her warm breath tickle his ear. "By the way, it's Yu," she whispered. "Takeyama Yu. I'm partial to Yu-chan when I'm not in costume, but Onee-chan works too; either at work or for fun."

She winked for good measure.

"I'll probably drop by UA tomorrow to finalise the deets. I've never been there before. You can show me around!"

Minato groaned.

"Later, 'gator!"

She'd be the death of him…

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Wands (III)…_

* * *

 _ **Side Note(s):** Sorry, please do not expect regular updates. I'm in need of a beta for this story. If you're keen, please contact me._


	2. II

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _It's just the nicest feeling ever to know that a story with fairly obscure fandoms has a decent following. Still_ _… no promises on regular updates._

* * *

0.0

* * *

"That's the entrance. This is our main building."

"That was bad, and you should feel bad," Yu, in full Mount Lady regalia, huffed. "You just pointed at two things! Things I've already seen!" Brushing him aside, she stood at the entrance to the main building, looking around. "Now… where's that famous cafeteria I heard so much about? I heard Lunch Rush's yakisoba bread is to die for. You don't think they ran out, do you?"

Arisato Minato shrugged.

"No harm in trying. Lead the―"

"Now, I reckon y'all are getting a little too ahead of yourselves," Snipe, his homeroom teacher, said.

Snipe wore a striking outfit. It was not too dissimilar to that of a cowboy, albeit a futuristic interpretation of one. His full-faced mask may have given him an intimidating look, but the man was anything but. Underneath his large red cape, Snipe rested his hands on his belt buckle. It parted just enough to catch a glimpse of the revolvers holstered at his waist.

Snipe walked towards Yu, the familiar jangle of his spurs accompanying his footsteps.

"Mountie, always a pleasure."

Deadpan, Yu mimed pulling a gun from her hip and pointed it at his homeroom teacher. "Pew-pew-pew-pew."

Minato resisted a groan and settled for a grimace.

"Those are lasers. I don't use lasers."

"Schick-schick! Boom!"

"That's a shotgun. Now, you're just making fun of me," Snipe said. "Been a while, considering. Our last mission together was… two months back? The Nakano raid?"

"Right in one, senpai," Yu said, bowing. "Glad to see you're doing well."

"Well worked that one. I remember you made quite the entrance." Snipe cleared his throat. "As good as it is to reminisce, how about we get business out of the way before you two go wrangle up some grub? Come, there's a meeting room inside the main hall."

"Darn tootin'," Yu chirped.

They duly followed. Along the way, his homeroom teacher was kind enough to point out an interesting fact or two about UA's extensive history. It didn't delve into one of his lectures, but it sounded well-rehearsed, like it was something he saved for official visitors.

"How's my guy like in school?"

"Partner here?" Snipe asked, looking down at Minato. "Reserved. He only just transferred this semester, so it's understandable. It's clear he's a good student―very mature―does well across all his electives, save for mine. For the life of me, I can never understand why he has so much trouble with World History." He slapped Minato on the back, chuckling. "Don't mind it too much, Arisato. You embellished a few details, but you did quite well in your last assignment."

"I didn't peg you as the studious type, Minato. You look like you sleep in class all day."

Apparently, whatever reaction he gave was not the one she was looking for. Yu stuck out her tongue at him. They stopped before a nondescript door, matched only by the bland décor within.

"Colour me surprised then that you're here for him," Snipe said, gesturing to the sofa at the far end of the room. He closed the door behind him as they entered, and took the seat facing them. "Now, explain to me why you want to take Arisato here as your intern."

"Have you seen him fight?"

"UA doesn't offer combat electives for General Education students in their third year. Their final year is when they enter their specialised field. In Arisato's case, he's taken up language as his major. He's performed well enough that he's a shoo-in for a placement at the University of Tokyo."

"So you haven't seen him fight?"

"No, I have not," Snipe said, clipped. "I am aware that he practices at a dojo outside of school." He turned to Minato. "We do have club activities here in school, Arisato. It should be similar to what you're doing outside. Have you ever considered joining? It would help you know your schoolmates better."

"It clashes with my work schedule."

"I see… Was that how the two of you met? At this dojo of yours?"

"Yup, yup," Yu said. "Pretty much that. So… do I just sign a form or whatever? How does this work? I'm antsy to get the ball rolling, senpai!" It was remarkable how quickly she glossed over the lie; her words buttered by a quick flutter of her eyelashes and an eager smile.

Snipe was nonplussed, saying to Minato, "Do you really understand the implication of this, partner? You'll likely give up a place at a prestigious university. Isn't that why you decided to transfer to UA for your final year? To familiarise yourself with the city before you start your term at university?"

Minato nodded.

"Listen, for UA to allow you to undertake a role as a sidekick, or more appropriately, an intern in a Pro Hero's agency, you'll have to get your accreditation―accreditation you'll only get in the Heroics programme. It means you'll have to transfer again. You're at a severe disadvantage. For the past two years, your peers have undertaken steps to progress from their provisional hero license, and are preparing for the final one at the end of the year. You've missed about a dozen combat electives since then, not to mention countless internships, training camps and school-sponsored events."

"I didn't know that there would be another transfer," Minato said.

"Don't mind it." Yu waved her hand flippantly. "You're not setting a precedent here. There are and will always be others like you. Not every kid has their life figured out before they start high school. I'm sure there's a crash course for late bloomers."

"This _is_ serious, Mountie. That world out there waiting for you, it's not going to be pulling its punches. There's a reason why UA has such a good track record at producing Pro Heroes. We don't believe in sending our students out into the world unprepared like lambs to be slaughtered. Take my criticism bluntly, partner. I don't believe you're prepared for this."

"Jeez, that's a little harsh, senpai."

"Hush, rookie. You've filled his head with delusions of grandeur. If you'd have taken more thought into advising him, he wouldn't be so lost."

"Yeah?" Yu leaned back and folded her arms over her chest. "Well, so what if I'm a rookie? I saw something every Pro Hero in UA missed. I saw Minato for what he is―a hero."

Her statement was met with an uncomfortable silence. Each second ticked by as if the palpable will of the two adults in the room were warring in plain sight. It finally gave way when Snipe sighed.

"I'll ask you again: is this what you want, Arisato?"

"I… don't know."

Unconsciously, his eyes sought for hers. The quiet look of betrayal in her eyes stung, but Yu didn't flinch; her gaze remained steady with his.

"Lately," he continued. "I feel like I'm just going through the motions. I can't find that purpose―the one that's supposed to drive me forward. I'm not sure whether I'll find it with her, but… I need to find out."

Apparently, he had said the right thing because Yu finally looked away, smiling. That, and she was happily tapping her feet.

"That's the most I've ever heard you talk," Yu said.

Even with his mask on, Minato could sense that Snipe was pensive. "You have the backing of a Pro Hero… You've managed to convince yourself that you wish to transfer… The only thing that still troubles me is the situation with your Quirk."

"Wait, back up a sec. What's this about a Quirk thingy?"

"You don't know?" Snipe asked Yu.

He looked to Minato, who could only shrug in turn. To be fair, he did try to explain yesterday, but the woman would have none of it.

"Minato doesn't know what his Quirk is. According to his doctors, it happens in rare cases, especially for Quirks that don't trigger a physical response. He does possess the genome from what I hear. It's just that they do not know what his Quirk is… yet."

"Huh, no way… I totally had you pegged as a precog-Quirk. Ugh, this sucks so bad." Yu palmed her face in her hands. "What about your parents, Minato? Couldn't they just get tested so you could figure out what your Quirk is?"

"I've been a ward of the state since I was born."

Well, that was a half-truth; a convenient one nonetheless. He had help concocting a background from a contact prior to him joining UA. That enabled him to have an actual presence in this world, with all the valid documentation and paper trails to go along with it. Still, he felt bad about lying so blatantly.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry, Minato! I just― _Grrrghhh!_ Foot in mouth, Yu!"

It was disconcerting how she alternated between apologetic and angry. The subsequent hug was nice though. Although, he could go without the genial pats on the back of his head.

"Yes," Snipe said. "That isn't an option."

"So what does this mean? He can't transfer without knowing what his Quirk is?"

"It's never been an outright prerequisite that you need to have a fully-functioning Quirk to enter the Heroics programme. However, it is important that you are proficient in combat to the level of our satisfaction. Officially, we don't know where you stand in that regard, Arisato."

"Great," Yu said. "Let's just do it here―right now. No time like the present."

"Pardon?"

"It's the fastest way to end this meeting." She made it sound like it was the most logical conclusion. "If you have a single shred of doubt at the end of it, I'll concede and withdraw my application. Hell, I'll even give up my agency."

"That's a little extreme."

"No, you need to understand how much I value him," Yu said, serious. "I'm all in, senpai. Minato should be game. How 'bout you?"

Snipe hummed under his breath. "I ain't a gambling man, Mountie." He made a show of reaching for his belt and pulled out both of his revolvers. "On the other hand, I am curious about what got you so riled up about him." With two quick flips of the hammer, he settled his weapons back into its holsters with practised ease.

"Partner, I just set both of my guns to 'stun'. Your task is simple. Stop me from shooting Mountie over there. I don't care what you do―to me, to this room―just stop me. Part of being a Pro Hero is being able to think on your feet _and_ overcome the odds. Prove to me that you have what it takes."

"Neat," Yu said. "I've never been a hostage before."

"Well, I'll have the two of you know that I was a pretty serious contender back in―"

Unmindful of Snipe, Minato closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He hadn't called for a persona.

However, one had simply appeared.

In that all-encompassing darkness in which he was the centre, a predator was pawing towards him, ever silent and ever deadly. There was a quiet growl as the beast stalked, slow and deliberate, out of the inky pool of darkness. Its fur, coated in the purest sheen of white, contrasted sharply with the surroundings.

However, its presence made Minato pause and smile.

 _Byakko._

Its existence was… a forlorn one.

For aeons, it had watched. For aeons, it had waited. In its adherence to duty, its existence had waned in the conscious mind of its people; its legend whispered as nothing more than a fantasy. Still, it would wait, from now until eternity, in expectation of the one true being that would stand above all―a paragon with absolute virtue.

The White Tiger presented itself before Minato and bowed its head in deference.

He did the same.

That was until a soft nudge to his knee brought him back.

"―don't mean to toot my own horn, but I've been a Pro Hero for longer than you've been born, partner."

He found that Yu had scooched closer, close enough that their knees were touching. She was sitting at an angle, legs crossed and facing him. However, her eyes, half-lidded as they were, were trained on Snipe. She was swishing her feet, innocently drawing attention to a collapsible baton she had hidden on the inside of her thigh-high boots.

The placement was a bit risqué.

All he had now were: a baton, a flower vase to his right and―

"I've set a few national records in my heyday. One of which was shooting two targets at naught five-hundredth of a second. That ain't fair, so I'm giving you a small handicap. It doesn't mean that I'm going to take you lightly."

―a stained glass coffee table in front of him.

These weren't the best odds.

"But what you've got to know is that there is no―"

"Just shoot me already. Gawd~~"

Minato shared a look with Snipe.

Then, all hell broke loose.

* * *

0.0

* * *

Nezu paced before the large monitor.

The light bathed its small frame, casting an elongated shadow in the darkened room. Its eyes weren't focused on the monitor. Instead, it began miming the actions on the video, seeing how it played out with its shadow. The teachers that were gathered in UA's Situation Room chose to ignore it.

Peculiar…

"Very peculiar, indeed," Nezu said aloud. "The ferocity in which he used that baton… his movements… They're animalistic. Could you slow it down right there please, Yamada? Yes, thank you. Do you see the way he changes the grip on the baton? The way he swings it, it's almost as if they're claws."

On the video before him, played out frame by frame, was UA's latest transfer student and oddity.

Arisato Minato.

"I don't need a reminder, boss," his subordinate, Snipe, said. "I was there."

"You did ask him not to hold back."

Snipe sighed, saying to Nezu, "Famous last words, I reckon. Present Mic, could you play back the video once more? There's something I want to you all to see." He waved his hands at the screen. "You can skip the parts here. I hate hearing my voice in videos."

"Man, I ain't some kinda playback monkey!"

"Then, stop sitting in the control chair," Aizawa rebuked, his voice muffled by the bandages wrapped around… well, his whole body. "Are you a DJ or a broken record? We keep having this conversation because you never listen."

Nezu shook its head.

Despite repeated insistence, mainly coming from Nezu itself, Aizawa had refused to take a short leave of absence to recuperate from the injuries he had sustained during the USJ incident. Aizawa had cited the need to _'continue the momentum'_ and _'I don't want my students to get lazy. I know they're gonna get lazy'_.

"Yowww, man! Don't blame me, you damn mummy! My legs gets tired easily 'cuz I got flat feet!"

"Yes, well… Where was I?" Snipe said. "Ah, here! When Arisato closed his eyes, something about his demeanour changed. It wasn't until Mountie tried to signal to the baton that she had strapped to her legs that I _knew_ something was amiss."

"I don't see anything," Kayama said. The '18+ Only' heroine squinted at the screen. "They both look bored because you went off on a tangent talking about all those national records you broke."

Snipe shook his head. "You had to be there. The moment he opened his eyes, his gaze was almost… _predatory_. It's like he became something else entirely in that fight."

"And the point you're trying to make is?" Vlad King asked.

"I think…" Snipe sighed. "I think Arisato has been hiding his Quirk. He knows what it is, despite what it says on the records. To what end― _the why_ ―I can't say. But you need to understand that he's a good kid. I cannot stress that enough. It hasn't been easy because he's a difficult person to read; it's hard enough for me to engage him, much less his peers."

To prove Snipe's point, another clip was played.

This time, Nezu watched as it showed Arisato Minato, an earpiece stuck in both ears, exiting a door that led to the rooftop of the main building. He then proceeded to a nearby bench, and laid down flat, staring up at the sky. The video sped up, showing Minato re-enter the main building exactly forty-five minutes later.

There were several clips of this spliced together, all captured with a different time-stamp over the past two months.

It wasn't until the last few weeks that there was a change. A girl, whose spiky ponytail was large enough to obscure the CCTV's view, would reach there before he arrived. Arisato Minato would then turn up with a bento box in tow.

"I wasn't expecting that," Snipe said.

"It seems to me that all he needed was a fair young maiden to break down those walls." Nezu turned to Snipe, chuckling. "It turns out that you weren't his type all along."

"Aww… Young love is so cute and awkward. I'd give anything to be eighteen again," Kayama said. "By the way, Aizawa… Isn't that one of yours?"

Aizawa nodded. "Yaoyorozu Momo. It's a strange coincidence, but I believe I may have had a hand in this."

"Yowww~~ My bro is a natural matchmaker!"

Aizawa continued, unmindful of Yamada's comment, "It was a few weeks before I was unfairly bundled into a living mummy…" He stared pointedly at Recovery Girl, his eyes red and bloodshot.

The elderly woman merely gave a small 'humph' and turned away.

"Yaoyorozu came to me asking if I knew a tutor who could help with her weapons training. It just so happens I have an old contact who owns a dojo. So, I gave her his address. I didn't know this kid was already training there. I've been told quite frankly that Arisato is the second coming of Miyamoto Musashi. Take that information however you will."

"We're getting sidetracked," Cementoss said. "The crux of the matter is: why would he see the need not to disclose his Quirk? This is all incredibly suspect, what with the League of Villains' incursion not too long ago."

"Actually," Toshinori said. "I may know the reason why."

Without the use of his Quirk, Toshinori really did seem like a shell of his former self. The man, appearing sickly and emaciated, walked over to the control station and leaned over Yamada to type something on the console.

They heard a lot of mouse clicks.

"Uh, h-how do I get into my inbox from here?" Nezu heard him ask Yamada. "They sent an encrypted file to my email."

"Man, that's all saved on your local PC. You gotta use the webmail if you wanna fish it out," Yamada explained. "No, All Might… Just come on, man. Budge over, and lemme do it for you." Toshinori had begun whispering to Yamada in very hushed tones. "Yeah, and your password? You're serious?! A baby could crack that in under a second flat. Change it!"

Kayama whistled nonchalantly. "Bummer… Our 'No. 1' Pro Hero can't figure his way out of a computer."

There was a bit more fumbling between Toshinori and Yamada before the latter managed to find and play the encrypted video. Once more, it showed Arisato Minato in the foreground. The setting had changed, however. Now, it was tracking the boy as he walked through the streets of Tokyo at night. The time stamp was dated two nights prior.

"It's unsettling how much of our lives can be traced by technology," Ectoplasm said.

"I called in a favour," Toshinori continued, clearing his throat. "As I was saying, I had a run-in with Mount Lady in her civilian guise. Something she said clued me in when I heard that she had handed in a request for Arisato-kun."

The angle of the CCTV wasn't the best, but they could see Arisato Minato peeking around the corner of a building into an alley. Nezu could sense his hesitation, but it was inevitable. Minato then pulled his hood over his head and withdrew a weapon from his bag. Barely a few minutes had passed before a hooded figure came running out, like the devil was on his heels.

"So, in short, this kid's a vigilante?" Aizawa asked. "Are the police actively looking for him, All Might?"

"No."

"At your behest?"

Toshinori remained quiet.

"So…" Nezu said. "How do we judge his actions? Is Arisato Minato a criminal for breaking the law? Or is he simply a passer-by forced to act, when he could not ignore the wrongs before him?"

"He's a good kid," Snipe said. "My gut says that and I can't ignore it. Mountie probably saw it then. She called him a hero, and it crushed me that I couldn't see that. I don't miss twice, boss."

"We can't harbour a known vigilante, in UA no less," Cementoss said. "If the general public were ever to get wind of it―"

"Then, we teach him how and _what_ it means to be a Pro Hero," Snipe said. "That's the only way. It's better to have a trained hero, one with UA's backing, than risk losing him to vigilantism… or worse. I cannot have that on my conscience."

Nezu sighed.

"Does anyone else have anything to add?" it asked. "No? Any objections then?"

Cementoss and Vlad King raised their hands.

"I believe I've already stated my case," Cementoss said. "We cannot overlook his reckless past because of 'what ifs' that may or may not come to pass. Moral conundrums aside, the laws are in place for a reason and mustn't be ignored where there is a clear violation."

"Noted… I'll take that into consideration. And yourself, Kan?"

Vlad King rubbed his chin, saying, "How exactly are we supposed to cram three years worth of education in under a year for him? It's not like we're going to throw him back to being a first-year. Besides, we've never had a third-year student without a provisional hero license before."

"It's nothing that can't be arranged," Nezu said. "I'll put in a good word with the Public Safety Commission―see if they can hold one in private. As for his course lessons, well… practical experience is the best teaching tool. We'll accept his transfer on the condition that Mount Lady agrees to supervise his training while he waits for his provisional examination. However, the bulk of his education remains with us. I would ask that those of you here provide your expertise as well. At their age, they're at a crucial stage of their development―both physically and mentally. This is when they form the beliefs that will carry them through their adult life."

Nezu turned to Kayama, who shuddered. "My dear?"

"T-That look… Those deep puppy dog eyes! You dare flash those things at me?! After you raided all the cheese-flavoured umaibo we had stashed in our office?!"

"Ahem, I did no such thing," Nezu said, hiding a cough behind its tiny paw. "But I do need a favour. It would put my heart at considerable ease if I were to put him under your care. Why, he won't find better role models in the entirety of UA than those of his peers in Class 3-A."

"You're just dumping him there because I got those three idiots, right?"

Nezu ignored her, smiling wistfully. "Such fine outstanding young role models… Nothing could possibly go―"

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Wrong, Minato! That's just so not right!"

Arisato Minato stared at Yu blankly.

She brushed him aside, deft fingers erasing the threadbare level of trust between them. She stood there, in front of the touch screen vending machine, looking pleased with herself. Behind him, he could hear the few patrons that were intending to dine at this particular Matsuya outlet grumbling.

"I'm having second thoughts."

He turned to walk away, but Yu pulled him back.

"Hnnng… Okay, fine! You'll get your extra large portion!" Yu conceded, huffing. She was unnecessarily rough with the machine as she amended their order. "This is a celebratory lunch, so I can shift some money around. But extra large meals are only for special occasions! On normal days, we're sticking to regular!"

To placate their anger, Minato began apologising to the other patrons, stepping out of the way so that the next man could use the machine.

"Sorry," Yu said to the man, as she casually leaned against the side of the machine. "Just a small tiff with my sidekick… He's my new sidekick." Her smile bordered on manic. "I have a sidekick now."

"I-I'm really happy for you, M-Mount Lady."

Minato couldn't bear to see others suffer, so he dragged the hyperactive heroine to their table. It had been two days since the fateful meeting with Snipe; two days where normalcy had returned. Sadly, that ended when Snipe pulled him aside after class this morning. His transfer had been approved. He would enter Class 3-A once the UA Sports Festival ended tomorrow.

Lo and behold, Yu was waiting for him outside school grounds, giddy and buzzing like a bee. She had brought him here, a Matsuya branch conveniently located near his school, to celebrate.

It wasn't long before their food arrived.

"Eiii~~" Yu scratched her temple with a finger. "Before we start eating, I, uh, got you something." She reached under the table and pulled out a smartphone from her… he actually didn't know where she hid that phone on that skin-tight suit of hers.

"It's your work phone. It's kinda weird that you don't have one yourself, but I got tired of not being able to message you. Now, I don't have to wait outside your school all the time like some kind of creepy stalker." She leaned over the table, whispering, "I don't think Eraserhead likes me all that much."

This was a surprisingly sincere gesture. He was touched.

"Thank you."

"Oh my God… I've known you for almost a week, and this is the first time I ever got you to smile," she said. "Anyway, check out your snazzy phone. It's the best I could spring for considering my budget. I already put in my contact details in there. It's the only one, so it's hard to miss. Oh, you know what, wait… I'll drop you a text."

She pulled out her phone from her… convenient hiding spot and started texting. A text bubble popped up on the screen.

 _ **My Hot Boss:** __Hi~ Hi~_ _As a rule, I want you to reply me within thirty seconds upon getting my texts_

 _ _ **My Hot Boss:**_ Failure to do so will… _

__**My Hot Boss:**_ Well, you'll find out. It won't be pretty, sweetie_

"Hey, you have to answer―"

Minato put the phone down on the table, screen facing down, then proceeded with his lunch.

"Rude!" Yu huffed, digging her chopsticks into her meal angrily. "You know you should smile more often, Minato. Girls at your school might actually talk to you instead of thinking you're some emo satanist."

"Noted."

"Anyway, speaking of school, I got assigned as a protection detail for the UA Sports Festival. It's gonna be super boring, so I need you to shadow me―learn the ropes, entertain me―that kinda thing."

Minato shook his head, unwilling to speak with his mouth full.

"Eh?" she whined. "Why?"

"Charity thing for class. I have to cook."

"Sweet! I didn't know you could cook," Yu chirped. "It goes without saying that I'm gonna get some freebies, right?"

"It's for charity," he told her, deadpan.

"Don't give me that look!" Yu huffed, indignant. "I'm not a heartless monster, Minato! I just wanna mooch off you."

He sighed, then nodded his assent.

"You're the best!" She expressed her excitement with her feet, which unfortunately clattered against his shin. He tried not to wince. "Having a sidekick is the best! Now, tomorrow might not actually be so bad."

"I thought I was just an intern?"

Yu waved him away. "Semantics. I've got a few things lined up to get you up to scratch as a bonafide Pro Hero. Your school gave me a pretty long list of guidelines of how I should structure your 'on-the-job' training too. So, you don't have to worry about being thrown off the deep end."

"That's good."

"You don't look all that excited, Minato."

"Thrilled," he said absently, not looking up from his food. "I'm concentrating on my meal."

Her face soured. "Would it kill you to lighten up a bit? This is a celebratory lunch―our first lunch as partners!"

Minato finally relented as he wiped his mouth with a serviette, and raised his complimentary glass of green tea.

"To the first of many."

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, his partner met his cup with hers, the porcelain clinking softly as it did. Her smile widened, so much so that he could imagine the perfect set of teeth sparkling.

"Hear, hear!"

Yu drank from her cup.

"On your dime."

And choked on her tea.

* * *

0.0

* * *

It was hot, unbearably so. The meagre gust of wind provided by the small portable fan to his left did little to assuage the heat. Regardless, Arisato Minato toiled through.

 _Scrape…_

Gaunt sunken eyes, red and puffy.

 _Flip…_

A very pronounced forehead that jutted out.

 _Sprinkle…_

A clammy hand reaching out to him―dangerously close to the grill…

 _Thwack!_

Minato rapped the unnaturally skinny man's knuckles with his chopsticks. With it, his robotic inner rhythm had been disrupted. The man, sickly and emaciated, seemed familiar; Minato could have sworn that he had seen that particular shade of blond hair somewhere, but he couldn't place it on who.

Oh, well…

"Hoshino-san," he called out lazily.

With nary a look back, Minato returned to his work. Over the past few hours, he had refined his technique down to a 'T'. In his old life, he had spent a surprising bit of time hanging out in front of the takoyaki shop at Iwatodai Station. Somehow, this translated to a decent know-how in takoyaki preparation.

Still, borrowing their idea for 'Weird Takoyaki' proved to be a sleeper hit at the UA Sports Festival. However, his class representative, Hoshino Tamaki, had given it her own unique twist.

Speak of the devil…

"Sorry, Arisato-chi," Tamaki said. "There was a line at the little girls' room."

His class representative was a fair-skinned girl with black hair. Out of everyone in his class, he was closest with her, partly because Snipe had partnered them together when he first came to UA. Tamaki wore a traditional flowery yukata for the occasion, and in an effort to match her theme, he had been forced to adorn a happi coat, complete with a matching headband set.

He nodded at the kneeling man in front of their stall.

"Ara, ara? Are you all right, sir?"

"W-What," the man croaked, clutching at his throat, "what did you make me eat?!"

"Sir, we've already put a disclaimer on our 'Takoyaki Roulette'. You have a random chance of getting one of our ingenious flavour balls. You can't blame my cook because you were unlucky enough to eat something extreme."

The only reply the man could muster was a gurgling sound.

"Hmmm… Which one did you eat, sir? The wasabi vinaigrette grenade or the piri piri chilli bomb?" Tamaki put a finger to her chin, scrunching her lips together. "Then again, it could very well be the apple cider vinegar landmine, or―"

"H-Hot!"

"That might be the piri piri chilli bomb then. Well, we do sell refreshments." Tamaki squeezed her way around him to get at the small cooler under the counter. She held out a small plastic bottle. "Here! A cool, refreshing yoghurt drink to ease the mind, body and soul. A perfect panacea for our piri piri chilli bomb special! Five hundred yen, please."

"That's daylight robbery!"

Tamaki gave the man a look. "It's not like we're profiting off anything. Most of our proceeds go towards the Polar Bear Conservation Fund. You can't put a price on the survival of an vulnerable species, can you? But… if you really think that way, the Kendo club is running a novelty drink stall around the corner."

The man looked torn.

"I heard the queue's pretty long," Tamaki continued nonchalantly. "And they're using that money to buy new equipment for their club. I guess that's nice… Not the same as saving polar bears though."

"I'll take it," he muttered.

The man left, head bowed and spirit broken. Tamaki was the polar opposite―no pun intended. She was humming to herself as she served the next batch of customers. "Hmm-hn! Takoyaki Roulette thanks you for your patronage, ma'am," Tamaki said, handing a woman her serving. "And if polar bears could talk, I'd bet they'd say thank you too!"

Minato couldn't have been distracted for more than a few seconds, but when the tell-tale click of a camera went off, his eyes snapped up to the culprit. The crowd seemed to part around her, both in awe and bewilderment.

"You look totes adorbs."

Yu inched closer to the counter and took another photo; this time a wide-angled selfie of the two of them.

Minato gave her camera the most lifeless stare imaginable.

"Delete that."

"Not a chance." She wasn't even looking at him, instead she was smiling at her phone, texting. "Papa's been bugging me for a picture of my new sidekick. I told him to wait until you get your outfit and everything, but this works well enough."

"Hnnng!" Tamaki gushed, hopping on her feet; it was no mean feat considering the wooden clogs she was wearing. "Mount Lady! I totally didn't believe Arisato-chi when he said he was going to work for you, but it's true! It's totally true!"

"So…" Yu's expression wasn't one that you would call friendly. "You're the pretty little thing Minato promised his time to today?"

"Y-Yes! My name is Hoshino Tamaki, ma'am."

"You know he was supposed to come patrol the school with me, but… I'm glad he's enjoying what's left of his high school life." Yu sighed wistfully. "Trying to make memories like this is important, especially when you're young."

Tamaki gasped. "You passed up Mount Lady for me?"

"I did it for the polar bears."

Minato tossed a few coins into their donation box. Then, with practised ease, he whipped up a half-dozen takoyaki into the packaged container, adding a generous amount of seasoning―skipping the dried seaweed entirely―and their mystery sauce for good measure.

He held it out to Yu.

Her eyes practically lit up. "You remembered I hated dried seaweed?! You're the best sidekick ever, Minato!" Yu dug into her ill-gotten meal with gusto, chewing with full cheeks. "This is really good!" she said around a mouthful. "Really, really good! I taste bits of salmon in this."

"Our concept is roulette, but with takoyaki. The flavours you get are totally random. Hence, the name," Tamaki said, sheepish. "Actually, please have this complimentary bottle of yoghurt. You might need it."

Yu bit into another ball. "Yum~~ This one has a mild wasabi after taste. Oi Minato, I want more servings."

"Go away."

This earned him a whack on the arm courtesy of Tamaki. "How could you say that so callously to a Pro Hero?"

"Yeah," Yu said. "Do you know how hard I worked to get away from Woodsy? He was just so darn persistent, but I sweet talked my way into getting a patrol route here with Death Arms." She plopped the takoyaki down on the counter and took a swig of her similarly ill-gotten drink. "When are you gonna be on break, Minato? I want you to show me around the festival grounds."

Minato peeked at his watch.

"We have that delivery order to get to," he said, turning to Tamaki. "I won't take long."

Tamaki gave a sharp salute as she took over the reins of the grill. "You can rest easy, partner! I'll hold down the fort here!"

It wasn't hard to tell that his class representative was from Osaka, putting her accent aside. She was an experienced hand―multi-tasking the preparation, cooking and even tending to the customers. To be fair, he had only been there to support her, and not the other way around.

"Bye, Mount Lady!" Tamaki said, waving. "It's so cool to meet you again!"

Yu blinked. "We've met before?"

"A couple of months ago, when you were taking down that Twin Strike villain at Shibuya? I was there―got a selfie and an autographed picture from you. You were awesome! Japan could use more kickass women like you!"

"Tamaki, was it?"

Tamaki nodded nervously.

"That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me―this week, at least." Expectant violet eyes turned to him, silently demanding that Minato put a word in.

"I'm leaving," he said.

Yu sighed, helping herself to another bite of her snack. "Swing and a miss…" she said, munching. "Oi! Don't just go like that! Wait for me!" Yu turned and gave a quick wave to Tamaki. "Bye, sweetie! Hope we'll bump into each other again soon!"

"Go! Go! Mount Lady! Go! Go!"

Yu caught up with him fairly quick, despite the bustling crowd and the fact that he was actively brisk walking in an effort to lose her. "Awfully cheery girl that. You two got a thing going on that I don't know about?"

"No."

"You know, one word answers can get pretty annoying pretty quick, Minato. You can tell me anything. I'm your mentor―emotionally, spiritually, career-wise. It's okay if you have a little crush on her; I won't tell."

"She has a boyfriend."

"Ahhh, forbidden love―the steamiest kind!"

Minato gave her a flat look.

"Spleesh, fine… 'was just trying to tease you. Lighten up a little." Yu glanced down at the two plastic carriers in his hand. "It's a bit strange to do a delivery within school grounds, especially during a festival. Where are we going anyway?"

"The stadium."

"Why?"

"Food delivery."

"For?"

Minato sighed. Turnabout was fair play, after all. Still, the woman had a way of eating into his patience. The irony that she was still munching on the takoyaki that he had cooked for her didn't go unnoticed.

"Yu… Point ta―"

"Onee-chan," she cut in abruptly.

That actually made him stop in his tracks. "I'm not calling you that."

"Nuh-uh," she said, waggling her forefinger in his face. "I told you before. When I'm in costume, you have to call me 'Onee-chan'. My hero name works too. My identity isn't known to the general public, so you can't go around saying my name like that. In fact, there's this whole spiel about the 'Unmasked versus Masked' debate that I could get into. But… I'm eating, and I'm lazy, and it's usually more fun to complain about that when I'm drinking."

Minato took her ramblings in stride, by which he filtered all that fluff to one side. "One's for Snipe-sensei," he explained. "The other is for… an underclassman. She made it to the finals, but lost her first match―hoping this would cheer her up."

Yu made a face. "She?"

Somewhat unsure, Minato just nodded.

"I've only known you for a while, Minato, but it's kinda strange that all the friends you have in school are girls. You're sending out the wrong vibes if you ever want to get a girlfriend. Unless, this junior of yours… Is she cute?"

Exasperated, Minato shook his head.

Yu smiled teasingly, leaning in close. "Ahhh~~ Is that a blush I see creeping on your face? Does our silent protagonist have a thing for his cute junior?"

He chopped her lightly on her head.

"You're annoying."

He left it at that. It didn't take long for them to reach the stadium, but trying to find a way to the competitor's inner area proved to be a hassle. The odd request for directions from his schoolmates did help somewhat, but it was luck that brought the duo standing before his homeroom teacher.

"Howdy, partner," Snipe said, tipping his hat. "Glad to see that my order came through. Sorry I had to trouble you to bring it here. Can't escape my rotation right now." Snipe took the offered carrier, handing Minato a thousand yen note in return. "Keep the change. Heard the two of you are drumming up some good business. Those polar bears will be mighty thankful."

Minato bowed, adding quietly, "Thank you for your patronage, sensei."

"Mountie, I'm not even surprised you're here with him." Snipe tapped at his ears, saying, "You ain't answering the comms, and Death Arms is quite vocal about you running off to parts unknown. You mind saving me the trouble?"

"So bossy... I put it on mute for just a sec." Yu frowned, mimicking his homeroom teacher. "Hi~ Hi~ This is Mount Lady reporting in," she said, adding an unhealthy amount of false cheer in her voice. "I took a detour into the stadium to investigate the little ladies' room. It won't take five minutes."

She looked very pleased with herself.

"All goo―Yeeowch!"

Snipe winced. "Yeah, that boy sure can holler. I guess I can give you your first piece of advice, Minato: always keep your wits about you. Well, that and… don't slack off when you're on rotation."

Yu held her hands up. "Chill, senpai. I'm just here to help my sidekick with his little fetch quest. That's all. I'll head back once I lay eyes on this cute junior of his."

Snipe looked down at the spare carrier in his hand. Minato couldn't see on account of his mask, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his homeroom teacher was hiding a smirk.

" _Oh?_ Is that for someone?"

He gestured at the corridor behind Snipe.

"Sorry, partner. Area behind me is for competitor's only. Protocols… I couldn't even let their parents in if they begged. I suppose if you want, I could call this person out for you. We're just about done wrapping up the competition for the first-years, so the finalists should all be in their rooms."

Minato shook his head.

He had brought the takoyaki for Momo on a whim; partly to show his support after her defeat, and because he had not seen his sparring (and occasional lunch) partner for the last few days. Knowing her, she wouldn't have taken her loss well―even if she had done well given the circumstances. He couldn't be sure if his presence would be entirely welcomed. However, his offerings certainly would.

Minato gave the carrier to Snipe.

"Yaoyorozu Momo."

"You got it, partner."

"Eh? But I came all the way here to―" Yu stopped, frowning as she pressed the comms device in her ear. "Repeat that." There was a short pause as something was relayed. "Got it. I'm heading back to our quadrant―that's the main festival grounds."

The sudden shift in her demeanour was not subtle; the tenseness that set in her shoulders, the way her jawline hardened―the minutiae of it all was new to him. This was a side of Yu he had never seen before. He was reminded of the fact that the woman was actually a Pro Hero and not someone dressing up for the hell of it.

Something wasn't right.

Distracted as he was, a sharp prick stung the back of his neck. Minato slapped at it and winced as he looked down at his hand.

It was a bee.

Minato heard movement, the thunderous rumble of footfalls, echo in the walls of the stadium; it sounded as if there was a stampede. Snipe was going around, shouting directions at those milling about the area, but none of what the man said reached him―everything sounded muffled to his ears.

His head snapped up at the sounds of explosions.

Unconsciously, he found himself walking beside Yu as she turned to leave, still rubbing at the itch. Yu had pushed him back however, sparing nothing but an apologetic glance and a shake of her head. It was what she mouthed to him that rooted him to the spot:

 _'I'm sorry…'_

And then she left.

In that instant, a memory came back to him.

That attractive shock of blonde hair morphed into a short white bob. Her eyes, large and violet, bled into the most vivid tint of amber. The ghostly shades of the two women blurred before his eyes, like a camera that couldn't focus.

One put her forefinger over her lips, shushing him.

His vision swam.

A hand gripped his shoulder. Minato was only distantly aware that Snipe was talking to him, urging him to do something. He didn't know what his homeroom teacher wanted, but it was futile; all he could hear now was the sound of his own heartbeat hammering in his chest. Snipe then rushed off to parts unknown with him none the wiser.

He was breathing aloud.

Hard.

Minato sunk to his knees, like a marionette with its strings cut, staring at everything and nothing around him. The room was spinning, spiralling out of control. Even as he squeezed his eyes shut, the disorienting vertigo remained.

All of it did little to ease the burning sensation that had consumed his being.

He clutched at his chest.

Can't…

Breathe…

That was until… it all stopped.

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Cups (X)…_

* * *

 _ **Side Note(s):**_ _If you want to help beta this story, please let me know. I write in weird spurts, so downtime is often quite long. Happy holidays, everyone!_


	3. III

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _A freebie for the new year. Don't get your hopes up though.  
_

* * *

0.0

* * *

The recording started.

There was nothing at first, save for an empty chair against a plain white background.

A girl came into the video frame. Her light brown hair was kept short, in a stylish pixie cut that covered her left eye. Beneath her fringe, a white medical eye patch was visible. She was dressed simply, wearing a school uniform with an oversized black bomber jacket tied around her waist.

She sat down, grinning widely into the camera.

"Do you know how you set yourself small milestones to get to where you eventually wanna be?

"Like… Let's say you were a boring child, and you decided that you wanted a boring job. You'd try to see which particular soul-crushingly boring job you'd be good at in school. You'd eventually find a niche; something you'd be boringly good at. So what do you do?"

She glanced at something off-camera, her predatory gaze slowly shifting from left to right.

"Study hard. Get extra tutoring. Work towards your qualifications. Find part-time jobs or internships related to that field, so that you'd gain some experience. Then, slave away for the rest of your natural-born life. It's all very cut and dry, isn't it?"

The girl paused, as if waiting for a cue.

"That's like exactly my point. Yes, yes," she said, clapping her hands in tandem. "I know it's bonkers that this… this is where humanity peaks. It's shameful really. We live in a world where eighty percent of the population has evolved, gifted with mind-boggling abilities from birth, but only a handful of them use it. Meanwhile, Tomatsu Nobuzo over here is happy to grow up _wanting_ to become an accountant."

She dragged her hands over her cheeks, mushing them together.

"My God, people… Why do we limit ourselves to be content with living life inside a societal cage? The only ones free are the villains of the world. Sure, it'd be easier to label them as non-conformists, but again, you're just seeing everything in black and white. These people are the only ones who remain true to the very core of humanity. And do you know what that core is?"

The girl sighed, brushing her bangs over her forehead.

"Self-destruction. I don't think it's something we crave consciously, but it's something that's hard-wired in every single one of us. I guess what I'm getting at is… We, as a species, are living in a fabricated world. I want to break down the walls that divide us from our true selves. The only way to do that is to break free from the shackles of society―by breaking society itself."

She hunched in closer to the camera, leaning her hands on her chin. She smiled, her cheeks dimpling.

"Welcome to the new world, everyone. My name? Well… it's Hachisuka Kuin, but you can call me Queen. I'm just a part-time villain for now; a girl's gotta start somewhere, you know? 'Sides, a good villain doesn't show her face, or her abilities, or even her true goal, so… this incriminating manifesto of mine, it's not meant for anyone's eyes except yours, Stendhal… Oh! I guess, you're going by Stain now, right?"

She laughed.

"Well, I just wanted you to get to know me―"

The camera was knocked dover. It continued recording, however; the angle capturing nothing at first, except for the heavy thuds of footsteps. Then, another pair of feet entered the frame, before leaving shortly.

She stomped her foot on the floor.

"Asshole!"

* * *

0.0

* * *

In that all-encompassing darkness in which he was the centre, Arisato Minato could feel no one, no presence, around him. He looked up briefly at the only source of light streaming in; a beam that shone directly above him.

It was instantaneous.

Something within him switched on.

Minato was painfully aware of how infinite his surroundings were; how small and insignificant his presence was as the centre. The inky darkness was like an ever encroaching parasite that began to consume him inch by inch ever so slowly. Every limb it consumed, it bound and restricted. If he struggled against its bonds, its vice-like grip would deepen to the point that he would only see white. It had crept up to his neck, his body remaining in his kneeled state, only because he could not fall over with it supporting him upright.

His vision was fading.

His head almost lowered to the ground, but a gloved hand, attached to a very pale forearm, gently lifted his chin up. She took his cheeks in both hands and smiled.

Just like that, the pressure was gone.

 _Oh my… this is no place for you to be. Whatever is my saviour doing here in a state like this?_

"Elizabeth…"

It was like he had been put under a spell.

She was just like he remembered, in his memories, in his dreams. The bewitching way in which she smiled was infectious, so much so that he mirrored it when he rested his head on her chest.

She was warm.

Alive.

However, that niggling voice in the back of his mind echoed that she was not. When she raised his head up, he made to protest; he didn't want to leave that warmth behind.

 _Now, now… that is unbecoming of you, Minato-sama._

Elizabeth made it so that their foreheads touched.

 _Why do you looked so surprised to see me? Did I not say that I would remain with you throughout your journey? You're still very much on it. Don't start taking me as someone who breaks her oath._

Lost as he was in her eyes, he couldn't escape how much he missed it when she laughed―it was light, whimsical.

 _I am never far away from you. You must remember that._

"Will you tell me why?"

 _My brave and noble soul. How could I ever rest easy knowing that the man who tore off the veil over my cage was imprisoned for such a time until the embers of humanity extinguished? I was simply returning the favour._

She stood up, offering her hand.

 _ _I know you're tired, but there are still people who need you._ Will you join me, Minato-sama?_

He took it.

"I choose this fate of mine own free will."

The last thing he remembered was her smile.

* * *

0.0

* * *

It was too soon.

When Arisato Minato came to, a mess of black hair greeted him first. There was a odd mix of strawberries and gunpowder that lingered long after he took a breath. Above him, Momo's features were creased in worry. Her eyes, large and slanted like that of a cat, were moist.

He blinked.

It ended too soon.

"Minato-senpai!"

He thinned his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to find out what that was. That couldn't have been a dream.

It was real.

It was definitely real.

He needed to―

"Senpai!"

His eyes snapped open.

There were others hovering nervously around them―classmates of her perhaps. He couldn't really tell, but they were competitors judging from the fact that they were wearing UA's standard-issue gym uniform. He recognised a few faces from the Sports Festival broadcast. One of them, a boy with spiky ashy-blond hair seemed livid.

"See, the loser's fine! C'mon! Just leave him already! We got better shit to do than watch this pussy shit play out!"

"But Snipe-sensei ordered us to remain here!"

"I don't give a shit! My mom is out there! I'm not gonna wait here and see if a Pro Hero cared enough to see that she's safe."

"I will not allow it! As your class representative―"

"Fuck being benched!"

Their infighting continued; raised voices shouting their defiance, quiet pleas that went unnoticed. The one thing that was missing was the calm voice of reason. In the chaos of it all, Momo held out a dead bee to him. Strangely, there was a tiny vial attached to its stinger, almost indistinguishable to the naked eye.

That explained the itch on his neck.

"I found you unconscious―with this nearby. I believe whatever it was that you were injected with caused your blackout." She looked away. "Don't ask me how I know this, but it made your tongue black."

Momo was doggedly avoiding his gaze.

It was a bit of a unconscious reaction, but he felt for his tongue. There was an odd taste in his mouth that wouldn't go away; a weird mix of metal and ash. Aside from an ear-splitting headache, he couldn't find anything wrong with him physically. Minato tried to get up, but Momo was unmoved, pushing him back down.

"There may have been complications with that serum. You shouldn't be moving around quite yet."

Despite the haziness, the only thing that registered in his mind was that he was lying down on something soft.

"Lap pillow _…_ "

She reddened. "H-How could you think of something so―"

He cut her off:

"What happened?"

Her face fell.

"It's horrible," she started, her voice shaky. "The villains… They're targeting everyone―not just heroes. They keep coming, and I just feel so lost, so useless. What should we do, senpai? What good are we as heroes if we're not allowed to act?"

"Momo…" Lifting himself off her lap, he took her hands in his and clasped them together. "There's more to what these hands can do than just pick up a weapon."

Momo was staring hard at where their hands touched, as if a great revelation had just been thrust upon her.

"Oh."

A snap, crackle and pop of energy gathered in her palms. She slowly spread her hands apart, the pink and cerulean energy refining to form an elongated shape, which eventually dissipated. In its place was an elegant wooden sword.

Minato accepted it with both hands.

"You mentioned that the bokken that you had was something cheap you picked up at a discount store." She rubbed at her arms, adding, "So, I may have spent a few days reading up on traditional swordsmithing. You'll like this better."

Lightweight. Perfectly balanced.

It was a gem.

"You're amazing," he told her.

Her cheeks coloured a deep shade of red, but she didn't shy away from his gaze. "I don't deserve such praise," she said. Her brows furrowed together as she stared at him. "You're going out there, aren't you?"

Standing, he nodded.

"Then, I won't stop you, but please wait. I'd prefer it if you had some protection."

Without sparing a glance at her surroundings, Momo unzipped the top of her gym uniform down to her navel. Minato was treated to a generous view of his junior's branded sports bra before he had the forethought to look away.

"Yaomomo! You crazy exhibitionist! W-What―What are you doing?!"

"That guy is a God!"

If Momo could hear them, she chose to ignore their outbursts as she handed him a tactical vest. He bowed to show his appreciation, not trusting himself to speak. Momo was unfazed either way as she zipped up.

"You're right, senpai," she said, clasping her hands in front of her. "We were warned not to interfere, but that doesn't mean that we can't help in our own way. We can't turn a blind eye to those in need―not in our position."

He smiled gently.

"I believe in you―and your friends."

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Disaster level: RED. I repeat, disaster level is RED. All Pro Heroes are to subdue and contain!" There were too many voices shouting over the comms to make sense of the chaos, but one rang clear; Takeyama Yu couldn't tell who it was though. "We have reports that the aggressors are civilians dosed with the Quirk-enhancing drug, Trigger! No excessive force unless absolutely necessary!"

Yu clicked her tongue lowly.

"Mount Lady en-route to the festival grounds! Stadium's a mess!"

What was it about stadiums and windows? Specifically, where the hell were the windows?! She needed a quick exit!

It was the one good thing about her Quirk; being able to survive an eight-storey fall. Still, manoeuvring around the inner stadium proved to be a much harder prospect than she realised. Her cries to direct the mass of bodies around her were not bearing fruit. A Pro Hero be damned when there were ten of thousands of people bum-rushing for the exits. As she was, she couldn't see over the crowd.

It sucked being small.

She dove into another corridor, cursing under her breath, although she was not the only one with that idea―both the cursing and corridor-diving. However, lo and behold, her meandering finally took her to an open ledge that led directly outside.

"Yasss!" Yu shouted to the high heavens, then at the civilians, "Please step out of the way!"

She squeezed and shoved her way through the crowd, right to the ledge. The view that gave way was to a scene of utter bedlam.

There was little to separate what remained of the festival grounds with that of an actual war zone, and it had only been a scant few minutes since the disaster call sounded. Scores of Quirks lit up the sky like a moving canvas. None of the powers seemed like they were being used in tandem. However, when there were so many Quirks being used at the same time, the chaos eventually synced up; the whole greater than the sum of its parts. Those that had escaped the stadium were merely fanning the flames before her, like lambs being led to the slaughter.

"W-What do we do, Mount Lady?" someone had asked her.

Yu looked over the small crowd that had gathered around her, as if being in her presence was akin to a protective embrace. She wasn't one to smile and lie. She held her back straight, and tried to convey the strength and authority that could only come from a Pro Hero.

"The situation is bad. You can see it right there. There's no point in lying to any of you," Yu said. "But this is why we're here―to protect you. God knows that I'm not perfect, but I will do everything in my power to protect each and every single one of you. That I can promise."

Their fears weren't assuaged. There were more angry murmurs amongst the faceless crowd. Words were hardly enough, not at a time like this.

"What good is a promise?!"

Yu shook her head.

"It's a free-for-all outside the stadium. I can't, in good conscience, lead you all out there." She gestured to the rooms that lined the cramped corridor. "It'll be safer in here. I'd ask that you all hide inside and barricade anything you can find against the door. When this is all over, someone will come and lead you out to safety."

"Please! There has to be something more you can do!"

"That's your plan? Screw this! Goddamn rookies like you are useless. Where's All Might or Endeavor when you need them?!"

Yu ignored the jibe and swallowed thickly; this wasn't the time nor the place to wallow in self-pity. "Rest assured… They're out there, trying to control the situation."

"Then, why are you here hiding?!"

"Sir, I'm not," Yu said, her words slow but terse. "Please, if all of you could just _cooperate_."

There were a few, families with children, that had branched away from the crowd. Some had listened thankfully, but there were more that didn't. By now, the group that had surrounded her resembled more of a mob than frightened civilians.

"We're better off looking out for ourselves! I'm not waiting for some rookie to swoop in and act like she saved the day!"

The stadium shook.

"Come in," the voice over the comms said. "We have confirmed reports that a known villain is approaching the school. Be on the lookout for Bo―"

Yu pulled out the comms device from her ear.

Some… _thing_ was lumbering towards them.

It was a grotesque mass of sludge that had taken on a vaguely humanoid form. It had no discernible features, save for the the random collection of waste that made up the bulk of its body. When it walked, parts of its jittery mass would slide off its misshapen frame, caking the ground in its noxious ooze. Its copious remains were enough to smother a man completely, such was its size.

"T-That's Bogi!… I've seen him on the news! Isn't he a villain based in Kyoto?!"

Yu bit the inside of her cheek.

If there ever was an indication that something bigger was at play here, the arrival of Kyoto's trash heap certainly heralded it in all its foul glory.

Bogi lurched to a standstill, raising an arm over its midsection. The sludge around it parted, regurgitating what appeared to be the tail end of a cement truck.

Her eyes went wide.

Yu didn't spare what remained of the mob another look; plenty had fled by now. "Go," was all Yu said to the stragglers before she jumped off the parapet. When she landed in a crouch, having activated her Quirk in mid-air, the ground quaked violently, more so than it did when Bogi first arrived. She stood up, smacking her fist into an open palm.

 **"Hey, meathead!"**

The fight was on.

* * *

0.0

* * *

It was all too familiar.

Déjà vu crept in like an old friend.

Had he closed his eyes, Arisato Minato would have seen the reflection of an irradiated moon on glossy black and white tiles. The sickly moonlight would have peeked through the tall arched windows, casting long, spindly shadows of unseen enemies. Instead, the ground beneath him was concrete, and all around him, pandemonium reigned.

The setting may have changed, but never the struggle.

He closed his eyes and reached for his well of power. In that all-encompassing darkness in which he was the centre, Minato summoned an angel; one that was rigid and unflinching in the pursuit of the righteous path. He called for a being who fought in the name of God.

None answered.

He asked for a warrior; one whose name was etched in the annals of history because of the skills that had brought the warrior such renown in battle. He called for a being who would fight for his ideals.

None came.

He called for the personification of death; the one that dwelled within―one half of what made him whole.

There was a lowly growl.

Thanatos stood at the edge of the inky darkness, enough to sense that it was there, but never quite coming out into the light. It appeared for all but a moment before vanishing. Once more, he stood alone.

In reality, Minato jostled and jockeyed for space amongst the faceless crowd.

There was barely enough time to catch his breath when he emerged from the sports stadium unscatched. There was little to do in dwelling on what had just happened. The collective unconscious had always answered his call. The only conclusion he could draw was that it was tied to the whatever concoction he had been injected with.

Hampered as he was, he still had his wits about him, and the reality of the situation took precedence.

He would not stand idle.

Minato followed after Yu's gigantic footsteps as she stalked her adversary. From where he was, he could see that a number of Pro Heroes had banded together to intercept the gigantic sludge villain whose name escaped him; although, their attempts weren't in any way effective in stopping it. They pulled a strategic retreat the moment Yu got close enough to mount an offensive.

As he was, Minato was hopelessly unable to keep up with Yu.

She had been able to cross the festival ground unimpeded by virtue of her Quirk. He, instead, was immediately waylaid by a thick blanketing fog that had drifted in from parts unknown.

His sprint eventually gave way to a dead stop.

Dread seeped into his bones.

Minato was barely able to see more than ten steps ahead of him, much less the sky above. There was an eerie sense of isolation, where all he could hear were the muffled sounds of battle beyond the ever encompassing wall of white. He cautiously stalked forward, his weapon held at the ready. Inside that disorientating haze, he could sense someone running towards him; the fog seemed to amplify the echo of rushing footfalls. It wasn't long before he came face-to-face with a frenzied charge.

Minato gripped his bokken, poised to strike. Yet, the look in the man's eyes, wide and delirious, stayed his hand. The man was obviously injured and his clothes were bloodied to the point that it clung onto his skin like a wet napkin. He staggered past Minato, staring fearfully at something behind him.

 _"Run…"_

That was all Minato heard him say.

An orb, thrumming with convulsing blue energy, came floating down towards his position. With a quick step forward and a forceful swing of his sword, Minato batted the offending orb into the air.

The resultant explosion consumed him.

Minato was blown back forcefully, impacting against the unyielding concrete as he scrambled to find purchase. When he finally rolled to a stop, sinking to his hands and knees, he stuck his chin to his chest as he tried, in vain, to take in that first shuddering breath; it had him gasping like a fish out of water.

That relief finally came.

With a violent choke, Minato spat out a glob of blood and hastily wiped it away with the back of his hand. It was still hard to breathe. Gingerly, he felt for his mid-section, underneath the body armour Momo had thankfully supplied, and winced as he felt a displaced bone.

The explosion had thankfully cleared away the fog in his immediate vicinity. However, in the midst of that chaos, before his very eyes, was a child.

She was wearing an All Might hoodie of all things, the one with the adorable bunny ears. The outfit wasn't as cute when it was in tatters and caked in grime and dried blood. She was staggering on her feet, dazed and shouting for someone; it was hard to hear above the high-pitched whine still ringing in his ears.

The girl finally collapsed and cried to the heavens.

"M-Mama!"

Another battle nearby had gotten out of hand. In the corner of his eyes, something―a food stall or what remained of it―came hurtling her way. For a split-second, a misstep actually had him reach for something that wasn't there; the evoker that he normally had holstered at his side. Unbidden by the consequences, something guided him forward.

Before he realised it, Minato was running full tilt, teeth gnashed together to push past his injuries. There was no time to curse his inadequacies. On unbalanced feet, he dove at the girl, cradling her in his arms tightly.

He would have been too late had someone else not intervened.

As it was, something shot up from beneath the ground, smashing the debris into pieces. A teenage boy, roughly his age, landed with all the grace of a seasoned gymnast. It was telling because he had the physique to go along with it.

Although, it didn't explain why he was naked…

His blond-haired saviour flashed him a wide smile and a thumbs up. "Nice save there, bud. Back up a bit and keep her safe, would ya? This guy's kinda troublesome."

Without any further prompts, he melded back into the earth.

Hissing, Minato sat up slowly to check on his ward. The girl, who couldn't have been more than five years old, was crying into his vest, refusing to pull away. She was hurt, it was plain to see, but she was alive and responsive.

He counted his blessings.

"I can't find my m-mama."

Minato brushed the back of her head, shushing her. "I promise we'll find her," he said gently, rising to his feet. "What's your name?"

"A-Ami…" She huddled closer, trembling in his arms. "I'm scared, mister."

"Me too."

He meant it.

The alienness of being helpless had been lost on him ever since his first incursion into Tartarus―the maddening, winding construct of the Dark Hour. Back then, every floor he had climbed, each new persona that had presented itself before him, all the shadows that he had brought to heel, had engendered this feeling of invulnerability. Here, as limited as he was, Minato had truly learned his place in the natural order. He thought that he had made peace with the knowledge that his strength was no longer needed. Unfortunately, that wasn't true.

After all, what could a wooden sword do against the likes of these monsters?

Minato looked around.

Scratch that… He couldn't find his bokken anywhere.

In his arms, Ami still wouldn't stop crying, so Minato did the only thing he could think of. He held out his hand to her.

"Texas…"

In that brief moment, her anxiety melted away as she beat her tiny fist into his palm.

"S-Smash!"

Her smile was watery, but it was a first.

There was still hope.

* * *

0.0

* * *

Takeyama Yu wasn't the type of hero with the biggest repertoire of tricks.

In most situations, there wasn't a need for a twenty-metre tall war goddess who could level a city. That was why her costumed alter-ego was rarely considered for missions of a more subtle variety. Mount Lady fit a niche. She was the nuclear option. That was not to say she was reckless. Yu was well-aware of the stereotype the media and the general public had about her. However, incidental damage was still just that― _incidental_.

It wasn't entirely her fault. She was a victim of circumstance.

Whenever she was in her gigantified state, it was hard to reconcile the disparity in strength because to her, there wasn't much of a disconnect, both mentally and physically, between her two forms. It had something to do with… to do with…

Look, she was always better at the arts than science.

TL;DR. Smart people on the internet said that her strength underwent a proportional increase relative to her newfound size. Although, because the scales evened out in the end, that meant that her muscle memory didn't have to compensate for anything. As a puny human, a punch _could_ bruise. As a giant, a punch _could_ theoretically cause some extensive remodelling work because the roof had _somehow_ collapsed unto itself.

Theoretically, of course. That case was still in litigation.

Then, that thread just derailed into another circle-jerk about how perky her breasts were…

The fact of the matter was that she was unfairly represented in the media as a negligent miscreant and a total hussy―which she wasn't!

Small mercies for 24-hour news cycles.

Far below her, the other Pro Heroes had begun herding the evacuees away as best as they could. Squinting, she could make out Death Arms signalling to an area that ate into the forested section of the campus.

 _Perfect…_

She could actually let loose in there.

Bogi was still unresponsive as she closed in, but caution prevailed when she noticed that the cement truck was now firmly lodged in its hand, positioned like a bastardised hammer with the two ends of the vehicle poking out.

 **"I don't suppose you'd just surrender quietly?"**

Moving at a speed that belied its unnatural body, Bogi whipped his hammer-arm, the appendage snapping and elongating like rubber. He aimed a towering blow on the ground, where there were still civilians trying to flee the area. Yu moved before he could. Cocking her arm back, she delivered a rousing haymaker that should have knocked its head clean off.

It didn't.

Instead, her attack punched through the elastic surface like she was striking a body of water. It offered little resistance and her arm sunk through it until it reached her elbow. Unconsciously, her other hand snatched at Bogi's hammer arm. It had been dangerously close to hitting its mark, but Yu's timely intervention had its appendage jouncing like a yo-yo.

Its pliable body had a very clear weakness. It had no strength of its own; Bogi generated its energy from momentum. She, on the other hand, had muscles―taut, fit muscles. That, and sheer force of will.

Heh, science…

 _ **"Move!"**_

With an almighty cry, she used her trapped arm as a leverage, spinning Bogi around to gain momentum. She did her best impression of an athlete at a discus throw event, tossing the villain well across the festival grounds and into the forested area of the campus. At the height of her throw, Yu deactivated her Quirk, shrinking down fast enough to dislodge her arm from its head, and thankfully, not being carried along with it.

Unfortunately, that meant that she was now free-falling from almost ten metres in the air.

"Fu―!"

See, there was a well-documented phenomenon called the Quirk Factor.

This came in two parts.

First was the Quirk itself. Second was all the biological doohickey that allowed the body to function normally―that was why you don't see someone like Endeavor being burned alive from the flames he manifested from his body.

Second was either a glaring weakness or a peculiar aspect to one's Quirk.

Regrettably, Yu's weakness was that her transformation was based on a directional basis, depending on where both of her feet were placed. If she activated her Quirk with both her feet on the solid footing, she'd grow 'up'; same for when she deactivated her Quirk, and she'd shrink 'down'. If she was ever transformed in mid-air or off balance, she would reshape from the 'middle'.

Quirks were funny like that.

"―uuuck!"

That got her stuck in her current predicament. If she transformed back where she was now, Yu would probably end up crushing all the little ant-people below her. Thankfully, the decision was made for her.

An escape route, or more accurately, a spindly tree root, grew up from the ground before her, almost like a magical beanstalk. Yu hastily took hold of it, sliding down and controlling the momentum of her descent. She landed in a spectacular crouch, right in front of her fellow rookie, Nishiya Shinji.

The Pro Hero known as Kamui Woods allowed the wooden tendrils to retract back into his arm with a hardy 'snap'.

Nonchalant, Yu dusted off the grime from her gloves. It did little to hide the fact that her skin had been burnt raw despite her gloves providing some additional protection.

Yu thought she hid the pain well.

"Meathead should have just stayed in Kyoto," she said, smirking. "City ain't big enough for the both of us, amirite?"

"Enough," Nishiya chided. He then gestured to the group of evacuees who were huddled together in an enormous makeshift wicker basket; the handle was thick enough that she'd be able to carry the basket in her enlarged form. It was actually rather ingenious of him.

"We've managed to set up a safe zone just outside the campus," Nishiya told her. "Help me transport them there. They're our first priority."

"I'm not done with―"

He pointed at an airborne figure of Endeavor, who was rocketing towards Bogi's position. The 'No. 2' Pro Hero repurposed the twin-jet propulsions emitting from his hands and feet to glide through the air. Even from afar, she could sense the scowl on Endeavor's face.

"You'll only get in his way as you are. I won't be surprised if he burns down the whole forest with you in it if you decide to interfere."

Yu bit the inside of her cheek. Maybe a disaster level RED wasn't the best time to think about keeping score―with Endeavor, of all people. "When you're right, you're right, Woodsy," she said, sighing. "I'll double back once I finish this run. Oh, and do me a favour? Over there… You see that that really wide open ledge on the fourth floor of the stadium? There are some people hiding out there. I promised I'd look out for them. Could you go and check on them for me?"

"It will be done."

Nishiya offered Yu a solitary nod before swinging off.

Save for small pockets of skirmishes, in which she recognised a few familiar faces―thankfully, none of which were Minato―the battle was slowly winding down. The majority of the Pro Heroes and even students of UA had now turned their attention to attending to the casualties.

It had barely been twenty minutes…

In that painfully short time, the loss of life would be crippling. Yu could scarcely imagine the blow back this incident would have on their credibility as Pro Heroes. The shame of her actions, and especially inactions, burned her heart. She had barely acted during the disaster. _Delayed_ ―because she chose to skive off her patrol on a childish whim. _Brash_ ―because she was riding a high after landing a hit on a well-established villain.

The 'what-ifs' plagued her mind.

She was barely heroic. She was just a girl play acting as one.

"Mount Lady?"

Still lost in a daze, Yu turned to regard the speaker.

It was an elderly woman who was supporting an injured man by the shoulders―her husband, she assumed. Without a second thought, she took hold of his other side, lessening the strain the woman was undoubtedly facing. She directed them to the transport-basket Nishiya had made, where there were still people climbing aboard.

"Thank you," the woman said softly. "Yet again, you've come to our aid."

"Sorry?"

"You saved us. We were directly underneath that villain, Bogi's attack. Had it not been for you, we… we would have surely―"

"I believe what my wife is trying to say is that Tokyo sure has some fine Pro Heroes," the man continued for his wife. "All these heroes sprouting up in this city alone… Must be something in the tap water here in Tokyo, eh dear?"

"I, uh, I'm from Hokkaido, actually."

"You don't say?" The man looked surprised, saying, "We're from Okinawa ourselves. From one islander to another, can't thank you enough, 'Mountain Lady'. We came down here to pay our boy a visit. He teaches here, you know. Damn proud of him. Made use of what…"

Yu was only half-listening at that point.

No matter how much her conscience begged her to believe that some good had come out of her actions, that uncomfortable lump in her throat, Yu found it hard to swallow. The time fpr excuses were long past. She was a Pro Hero; paragon of justice and righteousness. She was held to a different standard once she took on the mantle.

One right didn't absolve her of her wrongs.

* * *

0.0

* * *

 _"Aainnng! Watch out!"_

He already was, which was why Arisato Minato ran sideways for cover. Ami screamed into his vest; running with a five-year old in his arms wasn't how one avoided exacerbating an injury.

A bowling-ball shaped figure came barrelling past him and Ami, aimlessly knocking into whatever stood in its path of destruction. Each time the ball came into contact with something, it would ricochet, speeding up just a fraction more in a new direction and repeating the process.

An airborne girl, a UA student no less going by her uniform, was engaging the runaway human pinball. Each time it came close to hitting someone, she'd rain down a spiralling beam of energy that would disrupt the triggered civilian, sending him out of harm's way.

The girl, whose features were the archetype of a girl-next-door, was visibly strained. Her big blue doe eyes were scrunched almost into slits. While she was not outright gasping, it was her long, lustrous hair that gave away just how exhausted she was. It seemed to have a mind of its own. The longer she used her Quirk, the tighter the twin-tailed ends would coil and uncoil into spirals.

"T-Togata! I'm losing steam!"

To the untrained eye, her attacks seemed almost reactive, but she was actually corralling him into a certain area. It was only when Minato saw further ahead that he understood why.

A pitfall trap.

Diving in, the girl fired another flurry; it lacked speed but her aim was dead to rights. She had pinged the man in a one-two-three salvo, bouncing off one attack after the other and diverting him straight into the path of their trap.

With her work done, the girl visibly wilted and started drooping to the ground. It wasn't quite free-falling, but considering her half-comatose state, it would be a rough landing.

Minato was prepared. Jogging lightly, he shifted Ami to one side and tried his best to cushion the girl's landing with his free arm.

This time, he was beaten to the punch.

The very same blond boy who had saved them earlier cannoned himself out of the ground, materialising in a flash of yellow. He caught the girl in mid-air, swooping her in his arms, and landed dramatically on one knee.

Minato had his first real look at his saviour.

Tall and muscular, he had a very gentle façade that belied how visibly scarred he was. This was apparent, given how he remained naked. Minato was polite enough to point that out, as he covered Ami's eyes, and allowed the boy to hastily fix his state of undress.

It wasn't the greatest second impression.

"Hey, it's you again," the boy said, smiling. "We seem to have a knack of showing up at the right place at the right time, huh? Introductions are a bit late, but the name's Togata Mirio." He shifted the yawning girl gently, letting her piggy back him as she rested her head on his shoulder. "You two all right?" he asked, leaning in slightly to examine Ami. "She's not too hurt, is she?"

Minato shook his head.

The young girl in his arms scooched closer, burrowing her face in his chest. "Ami," he said simply. "We're looking for her mother."

"Ami, huh?"

Peeking at Mirio from the corner of her eyes, Ami nodded bashfully.

Mirio gave her a brilliant smile. "Well, little Ami! The three of us are heroes of UA. We won't stop at nothing until we find your mom! So don't you worry that little cute head of yours!" He turned to Minato, explaining, "Our best bet is to go to the safe zone just outside the campus. Most of the Pro Heroes have moved on to search and rescue, so it's a safe bet that we'll eventually find her mom there. What do you think?"

There was nothing he could do but silently agree.

"Ar―Arisato!" the drowsy girl interjected, head snapping up. Big blue eyes gazed searchingly into his, before slowly fluttering to a close. "Kayama-sensei… Pet project." She promptly conked out, for real this time, because she was snoring just a tiny bit.

Mirio laughed, saying, "Don't mind her. She accidentally inhaled some kind of exhaustion vapour dealing with one of the other Trigger victims. She's Hado Nejire by the way. I wish the two of you could have met under better circumstances… Minato-san?"

Minato bowed slightly by way of an introduction, which was a stupid thing to do in hindsight as his injury flared up; he tried to keep it from showing.

There was an earnest look in Mirio's eyes as his new-found acquaintance regarded him. "The rumours were true then. We do have someone new joining our class. Well, the way I see it, someone who throws himself head-first into danger to save people is a-okay in my books. You'll fit right in with the rest of us." Mirio barked out a laughter, motioning with his head. "Come on, let's make our way to the safe zone. I need to make sure Hado-san gets tucked in before I go back out there. Tamaki will have my hide if I don't."

"Shit…"

Tamaki.

His Tamaki.

In the heat of the moment, he had not given much thought to the well-being of his class representative. He looked back at the ruins of the festival grounds far to his left. There was not much left except for debris and the dying embers of a forgotten battlefield.

He hoped she was safe.

"Mister, you said a swear!"

Minato glanced at Ami, apologetic.

"Is something wrong, Minato-san?"

"I haven't found my friend. Black hair. Fair. Wearing a flowery yukata. When I left, she was manning our takoyaki stall at the festival grounds."

Sadly, Mirio shook his head. "I was there, in the thick of things. I'm not sure if this is a good sign, but I didn't notice anyone like that. I hope she got away safely. Do you want to look for her? I could take Ami and―"

The young girl tightened her grip on his arms, looking up at him with fearful eyes. He smiled thinly and patted her head to reassure her. "No, I made a promise," he said. "Let's go find her mother first."

* * *

0.0

* * *

In the centre of the makeshift triage centre, Takeyama Yu had never felt so lost.

She had only been here for all of two minutes.

It was disorderly, but organised at the same time―if that even made sense. Medical personnel were bustling around the area, weaving in between patients and systematically categorising the level of attention needed. There were far too many civilians milling around. Cries of desperation and anguish seemed to blend together as they trawled the rows upon rows of bodies in the hopes of finding their loved ones. Most couldn't be separated away from the area.

This wasn't her first brush with death, but in the face of overwhelming anguish, Yu couldn't help but look away. It was such a raw emotion. It felt like she was intruding with merely her gaze.

As it was, someone bumped into her.

It was a woman; a first responder by the cut of her uniform. She looked harried, trembling hands loosely holding onto a marker, as she wiped away a thin sheen of sweat that marred her forehead. "Please… You're in the way," she said offhandedly, not even sparing Yu another glance. Her voice sounded hollow. "If you need something to do, help with search and rescue. You're impeding our work."

Yu mustered a nod, saying quietly to the woman's back, "You got it."

It was selfish of her, she knew…

She knew, but she couldn't let go of the hope that she would find Minato here. Or maybe not. Maybe it was better that he wasn't here. It would mean that he'd be safe, right?

Her question went unanswered in her mind.

It pained her that the last thing she remembered of Minato was his look of utter grief when she pushed him away. She had seen neither hide nor hair of him since.

"Where are you?"

 _Duty first, Yu…_

With a heavy heart and another longing glimpse back, she headed for the exit, only to be impeded by a man, who called her over.

"Mount Lady," he said, his voice was soft yet firm.

The man was middle-aged, older even, going by the faint dusting of grey that lined his temple. He had bloodshot and swollen eyes. It made him appear haggard, like he hadn't slept in ages. He was cradling the hand of an unconscious woman, circling the ring on her finger.

The woman's face was bloodied, the visible parts of her body bruised with ugly purple welts. There was a 'P-2' hastily scribbled in red marker ink on the ground next to her head. Yu didn't know what it meant, but from what little she could glean, her breathing seemed normal despite how severe her injuries appeared to be.

Yu knelt down.

She hated this…

"Sir, how can I help?"

She hated dealing with family members in the aftermath.

His eyes were unfocused, mumbling, "I-I… lost track of my wife and daughter when we exited the stadium. We got separated, and I was herded here by another Pro Hero." He buried his face in his hands. "My wife was brought here after… like this… but I can't find my daughter anywhere. I tried to go back, but they barred the entrance." He took hold of her wrists, squeezing it as if it was a lifeline. "Please! She's only five years old! Please, you have to help me find her!"

Yu tried to brush him off gently. "Sir… Sir, I will, but I need you to calm down. I'll be part of the search and rescue efforts. I'll make it my priority to find her. Do you, maybe, have a photo I could use?"

The man shook his head. "It's on my phone. I gave it to one of the personnel manning the entrance. He said he'd give it to one of the heroes inside." He fumbled for the inside of his coat, pulling out a well-worn photo. It was small―small enough to fit inside a wallet. "This is the only photo I have left of her."

It was an old photo; the girl was still a baby, barely a few months old―gummy smile and all.

She was cute.

Yu hid a sigh. "This won't help, sir. What's her name? Maybe you could tell me what she looks like?"

"Ami. Her name's Akamine Ami. She has brown hair and eyes, just… just like my wife." The man stole a sideways glance, adding, "She was wearing her favourite All Might hoodie. The one with―"

Out of the corner of her eyes, a very familiar shade of blue drew her attention to the entrance.

"―bunny ears?" Yu finished for him. "Is that Ami, sir?"

The man followed her gaze and his eyes widened. He barely spared Yu a reply before he leapt to a running start, straight for the entrance. Yu followed him sedately, mindful of those still grieving around her.

"Papa!"

There was a wave of emotions that flitted between father and daughter as Ami collapsed into her father's arms, bawling her little heart out. The man was no less composed, hugging her daughter tight in the crook of his neck, as he whispered lowly into his daughter's ears.

Her heart sang―out of relief, out of pride.

Yu stood nearby, not wanting to intrude. This was his moment, not hers. Their eyes met briefly, and Minato gave her the slightest nod of acknowledgement before returning to his conversation.

She caught the gist of it.

Yu had barely known him for a week, but it was so like him to downplay his involvement. Instead, he recounted the story of Ami's bravery. Despite being so reticent, Minato was surprisingly adept at handling such a sensitive situation. He had this unnatural ability to empathise, and when he talked, people just gravitated to him and listened.

He even had this bland-looking kid nodding to his words. Whenever he bobbed his head, his whole body would move; Yu was surprised the girl resting on his back didn't jolt awake.

She remembered him though.

He was Nighteye's protege. They had worked together briefly during the Nakano raid. He didn't wear a mask then, so it was easy to put a name to a face, especially one like his.

 _Lemillion._

"No words can express how grateful I am to you, Arisato-san, and you as well, Togata-san." The man was ever effusive in his praise, adding, "If there's ever anything I can do for the both of you, please just ask."

Minato was quiet, peeking over the man's shoulder at the triage centre. He looked like he wanted to ask the man something, but then decided otherwise. His reply was quiet, but no less meaningful:

"We couldn't impose," Minato said, bowing. "Please take care of your family, sir. That is all we could ask for."

The unflinching display of humility was not lost on the man. Steeling his features, Ami's father bowed low and deep.

"Thank you," was all he could say.

The medical personnel had swooped in by now, dithering over Ami and the unconscious girl that Lemillion was carrying. The blond boy gave his well-wishes before jetting off with the staff. Before Ami could be carried away, she pulled back, holding her fist out to Minato.

"Mister!"

Minato smiled lightly, walking over with his palm facing out. "Texas…"

"Smash!"

He closed his hand over her fist. "Be strong, Ami."

Ami gave the cutest little 'Hm!', her eyes moist but earnest, before they took her away to be examined. They were still within earshot when they heard Ami ask her father:

"Papa, where's mama?"

Minato's lips had thinned into a line. He looked to her, and he understood well enough when she shook her head. Minato closed his eyes and let out a tired breath. His clothes were in tatters, face smeared in grime and dried blood, that wet blotch that covered his side―the blood red colour indistinguishable from his navy happi coat―was enough for Yu to know he was hurt, but Minato didn't let it show.

"Go get yourself checked out," Yu told him. "That thing looks bad. I don't want it to get worse because you're stubborn."

"I'm fine." He spared her a glance. "You?"

"Don't be difficult and change the subject. _Go._ "

Minato ignored her. "I need to find Tamaki."

"I don't think she's here. I would have seen her," Yu said gently. She took his hand, stopping him from walking away. "Listen, we just started working together. There are times when I need you to listen to me―to trust me. _Please._ "

His face was unreadable, but he quirked his head to the side, staring at her strangely. A slow, mute nod followed.

"Thank you."

And she meant it.

Yu breathed a sigh of relief.

She reached up and stroked his cheek. She never quite noticed that he was taller than her―in this form anyways. "You've done all you can today, Minato. I know you're worried about your friends, but you gotta leave that stuff to the pros. I'll go look for Tamaki. You sit tight and let these nice people fuss over you."

"Hn… okay."

God above, he actually started to yawn. For a brief moment, before he could cover his mouth, she thought she saw a blackened tongue, like someone had smeared paint over it. Her eyes narrowed.

"Stick your tongue out, Minato."

He clammed his lips shut and mumbled, "Why?"

Minato tried to pull away when she got in close, but her grip remained firm.

"Holy hell, did you 'trigger'?"

"Is that what it's called?"

That blasé reply wasn't what she was looking for. She glared at him, saying, "Look at my face. What part of it looks like I'm joking?"

"I'm fine," he reiterated, too much like a broken record. "Just gave me a headache." When she didn't let go of his wrists, he said, "Nothing happened."

It was such a bold-faced lie and he made it look so effortless. Yu was aggrieved. She knew her sidekick had secrets, he was the type that played things close to the chest, but a small part of her thought that she had gotten through to him―even just a bit. She dragged him across the width of the triage centre. Surprisingly, he didn't put up much of a resistance.

She called for one of the medical personnel. "Hey, we have a Trigger case here. Could you give him a once-over real quick?"

The staff, a woman with red short-cropped hair, eyed Minato for all but a second before returning to her work, sorting through a pile of medical supplies. "You're standing. That's a good sign. Hurt anywhere else?"

"Broke a rib," Minato mumbled, shrugging. "Headache too."

"Feeling light-headed? Shortness of breath? Does it hurt to breathe?" The woman walked over, pressing a hand lightly over his abdomen until she circled the spot where Minato kept wincing. "Your vest might have taken most of the impact. That's good―smart of you. Probably didn't hit anything major."

She motioned to a corner of the centre, where there were more patients waiting. "Grab some water and take a seat. We'll get Recovery Girl to see to all of you shortly. That headache of yours will pass. Happens to some people after an adrenaline rush."

"What about the Trigger?" Yu asked.

The woman sighed, saying, "Sorry, no experience dealing with that. He says he's fine and he looks fine. I'll ask one of my colleagues and see what he thinks. That's honestly the best that I can do for a non-emergency case right now."

"Oh… All right, I guess. Thanks," Yu said. She turned to Minato, who looked like he wished to be anywhere else but here. "Hey… Stay here, okay? Please?" She rubbed his arm and squeezed it lightly. "Listen, I gotta go back out there and help. It's gonna be a long day, but I still want to talk to you after. You have your phone with you?"

He nodded.

"Good… I'll update you when I find anything. I'll see you later."

For the second time today, Yu left her sidekick behind, though this time, she did get a small wave goodbye.

It was a bit awkward.

She hated awkward.

Yu intended to fix it.

* * *

0.0

* * *

It was in the wee hours of the morning.

The sound of the shower―the steady trickle of water hitting the tiles of his bathroom floor―cut through the silence of his tiny sublet apartment. Yet, Arisato Minato was seated on his refurbished two-seater couch in his bedroom cum living space.

He wasn't quite sure how it ended up like this.

He fiddled with his phone, scrolling through his conversation with Tamaki. Thankfully, his class representative had avoided the worst of it. Although, it would have eased his worries sooner had they just exchanged numbers in the morning. It was a mistake he corrected then and there.

Inevitably, he doubled back to his chat history with Yu. He didn't have a lot of contacts; only two. There had been a lot of messages from Yu yesterday in one very brief window. It was a stretch of deleted entries, her asking him his whereabouts and a few choice words in between. In his defence, checking his phone was the last thing on his mind.

Their last exchange was not even twenty minutes ago. It read:

 _ **My Hot Boss:** __Hey, you up?_

 _ **Me:** __Yes_

 _ **My Hot Boss:** __Good… That's me knocking on your door. Open up_

 _ **Me:** __…_

 _ **My Hot Boss:** __C'mon. You don't want me standing outside your door all night, do you?_

 _ _ **My Hot Boss:**_ Minato… (sad face)_

 _ _ **My Hot Boss:**_ Minato!_

Minato relented eventually. Yu had arrived at his doorstep dressed in a simple dress shirt and cuffed jeans. With her, she carried a small overnight bag and a tall can of beer; the bag was a very telling indicator that she planned to crash here tonight.

He tried to close the door on her face.

Obviously, he failed.

She then commandeered his bathroom, citing that she was going to use his shower because she loathed having to go to a public bath house. Apparently, her place didn't have a built-in toilet.

With nothing else to do but wait, he switched on his antique CRT television. It had been a good deal despite being a near obsolete hunk of junk. He found it trawling in a second-hand goods store. Well, pretty much most of his furniture were used.

There wasn't much on at three in the morning.

The various 24-hour news stations were still reporting on what was now sensationalised as 'UA's Massive Failure'. In such a short amount of time, the media had tore into the story with all the finesse of a sledgehammer. No one was spared; the school administrators, Pro Heroes, his fellow schoolmates and even the Trigger victims. Spliced with on-looker footage of the disaster, they had built upon that narrative purely on anecdotal evidence.

At the end of the day, more than a dozen people had died in the senseless tragedy, with hundreds more injured. The death toll was expected to rise over the next few days.

A body made its way to the empty seat next to him.

Yu had a towel draped over her head, shadowing her eyes, as she methodically patted down her hair. The oversized t-shirt she wore had damp splotches that clung invitingly on her skin. He saw a hint of black shorts peeking out from beneath the hem of her t-shirt.

"See something you like?"

There wasn't as much sting as Yu would have normally put into her words. She must have been exhausted.

Minato didn't bother with a reply.

Yu popped open her drink and took a long sip. Her large violet eyes peered up at him from beneath the towel, asking, "You really wanna watch these idiots spewing shit they don't have a clue about? After the day we just had?"

He acquiesced, flipping through the channels. It was hard given how yesterday's disaster dominated the airwaves, but he eventually settled on one; an animal documentary.

Yu snorted into her drink. "Polar bears?" She stalled an impending argument, adding, "Relax… I never said I didn't like it. I like polars bears. Everyone likes polar bears."

The silence after lingered.

It made him restless. He was watching the show, yet couldn't keep track of what the narrator was saying. Minato must have been fidgeting in his seat, because Yu suddenly poked his leg with her feet.

"So uhm… Are you mad at me or something?"

Minato blinked. "Not at all."

Yu fiddled with the tab on her can. "That so? Must have been just me then. It's a bit hard to tell with you sometimes. Is… Is there anything on your mind? Anything you want to talk about, especially after what happened yesterday?"

"Not really."

"Ehhh, am I bothering you that much by being here? Sorry… stupid me," Yu said, standing. The sheepish smile on her face looked forced. "I'll pack up my things and go. Should have just waited for tom―"

"I don't mind," he cut in. "You said you wanted to talk?"

She plopped back down on the couch. "Yeah, but you know… saying I want to have a talk, and then actually having that talk is a pretty big jump for me, Minato. I'm not great at these things. You know that already."

"What about?"

"Us."

"I didn't realise there was a problem."

"There isn't, but I just want to know what you think about _us_ ―working together, the dynamics and all that necessary hang ups." Yu sighed deeply, taking another swig of her drink. "I'm just worried, Minato. I've always worked alone. This is my first time working with someone, much less having to be the lead."

"You're doing fine, Yu."

"You don't need to mollycoddle me. I know there's a few things I have to work on. I didn't go to some fancy school to learn how to be a Pro Hero. When I was your age, I interned at a farm, herding cows. I hated every single second that I was there, except the cows… They were good cows."

Minato couldn't help it, he covered a smile at the image.

Yu attacked him with her legs.

"Don't laugh at me!" she said, huffing. "There weren't a lot of schools in Hokkaido that were willing to take in a student with a gigantification Quirk like mine. What I learned, I learned on my own. Everything I've accomplished, I've accomplished on my own. I thought you were the same," she pressed on quietly. "I thought it'd be easier working with you than some wet behind the ears firstie, or some straight-arrowed senior."

"What made you think that?"

Yu sat up straight and quirked an eyebrow. "Because you were a vigilante? Before I set you straight with my womanly charm?"

"Not a vigilante. Never been one… except for that one time."

"Bullshit!"

"Why would I lie?"

"To save your scrawny little butt maybe," Yu said. "I dunno. I get this feeling that you know more than you let on, like with your Quirk." The look she gave him was coy, silently egging him to speak.

At that moment, Minato saw two possible avenues.

One: Deny it. Doing this could fracture the trust between him and Yu. After all, the woman had showed up at his doorstep at three in the morning. He'd find it hard to believe that Yu would ever let it go.

Two: Just tell her; enough to placate her at least.

"I know what it is, but I can't use it fully," Minato said.

"I _knew_ it!" Yu kicked out at the air happily, grinning. "So you do have a Quirk?"

 _No._

"I have powers, yes."

Yu had inched closer, resting on her knees, towards him. "So, so… what is it? Don't keep me hanging, Minato. I thought you were a precog at first, but guess I was wrong. It's gotta be a combat Quirk. I've seen you fight twice and each time you pulled out something different."

"I'm adaptable."

Yu visibly deflated, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. "You gonna explain what that means?" She aimed a flick at his forehead, brushing his fringe aside. "Or do you get off on being mysterious all the time?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

He sighed, saying, "I'm able to harness different… _manifestations_ depending on the situation."

Yu raised a delicate brow. "You're some kind of funky mind summoner?"

"It would be easier to show you. But I can't. Not fully. I'm missing something."

"So by that you mean you have like some kind of mental block that's preventing you from using it fully? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Minato shook his head. "I require a medium. It's hard to describe what it does, but…"

"But what?"

"I have to… accept death."

Yu blinked dumbly. "What the butt, edgelord?"

"You wanted to know."

"Well, sorry. I mean it, honestly… But you came straight out of left field there! I'm not exactly sure what to say. I mean, it's not like I don't believe you, but it just got _dark_ all of a sudden!"

"I'm going to bed," he said.

"No~~ No~~ Minato… Don't be like that, please! I'm grateful that you trust me enough to share that much with me!" Yu whined, tugging him back by his wrist. "This is the first time I ever got you to 'talk' 'talk! I don't think you're lying. It's just a lot for me to process. Is that why you never told anyone about your Quirk?"

"Brings about more questions that I don't feel comfortable answering."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I struggled yesterday. That drug messed with my powers. It made me realise I need to get back where I was. I'll find a way. There has to be."

"It was kinda strange that you didn't 'trigger' like the rest of 'em; maybe it had something to do with your mental block?" Yu told him. "You're okay now?"

He nodded.

"That's good. To tell you the truth, I'm not happy with myself yesterday either. I feel crummy; didn't give a good account of what a real pro should act like." She leaned back down, hanging her head over the headrest. Her violet eyes bore into the ceiling, and Minato could see them water just a bit. "I told myself that I'd learn from it. Be better than I was. That sounds a bit messed up, right? Me using a tragedy like this as a life lesson."

"When you fall short, it's natural to regret what you did or didn't do."

"Hindsight, huh?"

"You have a good heart. So be better, Yu. You still have a chance and the choice."

Yu covered her forehead with her forearm, turning closer to him. She smiled―it was a small but sincere one. "I really lucked out with you, Minato."

Minato gave her a non-committal hum and stood up.

"When a girl confesses her heart to you, you don't just go 'hn' and walk away, dummy. Learn to read the mood."

"I'm tired. You can take the futon. I'll use the couch."

Yu brought her legs up and occupied the space he just vacated. It wasn't a particularly long two-seater, so her feet dangled over the armrest. She stretched and yawned lazily, bringing her hands well above her head. In doing so, he caught a peek of the shorts hidden beneath her t-shirt.

It was anything but accidental.

"I'm crashing here, Minato. I can't take your bed. Besides, I'm used to sleeping on couches, so here's good."

Not seeing the need to argue, he threw her a pillow. A muffled 'thanks' followed, as she buried her face in it.

"Mind switching off the lights?"

Minato was already on it before she prompted him.

"Thanks. Night, night, Minato."

"Goodnight."

"Don't make it weird or anything."

Minato snorted, which elicited a small muted laugh from Yu. Letting his head fall back on his pillow, the only thought running in his mind as he closed his eyes was:

It's been a long, long day.

That night, his sleep was plagued by visions of a white-haired girl with amber eyes.

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Page of Swords…_

* * *

 ** _Side Note(s):_** _I gave up on finding a beta. Response was poor._


	4. IV

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Hey! I received feedback regarding a few issues that I've missed; this is where a beta comes in handy._ _Those will be addressed at the end of the chapter. Thanks for the show of support!_ _  
_

* * *

0.0

* * *

 _Civility._

The hallmark of the Japanese identity. It was something indoctrinated from birth, imbued into every Japanese son and daughter—at home, in school and society at large. As a people, they were famed for it. Yet, under the guise of anonymity, people allowed that mask to slip, baring the ugly nature they were repressing.

With a tiny smile, Hachisuka Kuin scrolled through comments section of the news article she had been reading. Going its course, the train rattled from side-to-side as her body swayed along with the motions.

Kuin held onto the railings tighter.

It was all too easy to stir the bubbling cauldron. Simmering beneath the surface, an underlying sense of discontentment was brewing between the general public and its nation's heroes. By nature, people craved their humdrum routine, but day-to-day life in this modern age was anything but. When stepping out of one's door meant spinning the roulette wheel of fate, it wasn't hard to feel disenfranchised.

Society had dictated the Pro Heroes to be its shield. However, a well-aimed strike had been enough to bring it to its heel. It may not have pierced the jugular, but the latest tragedy had irreparably wounded it, tarnishing the rose-tinted lens in which the public viewed their heroes.

Kuin suppressed a shiver that ran through the length of her spine. She may not have been the mastermind yesterday, but she had played her part to aplomb.

"Uh, Kuin… Why are you smiling so much?"

Kuin blinked—with her good eye. With a simple tap and a swipe, she closed the offending news article and brought up another page. Kuin held out her phone to her 'friends'.

"Cat video," she said simply.

Her companions cooed.

When Japan mourned, they mourned as one. It was hard to see past the general stoic expression of those around her in the passenger cabin, but no one was smiling. Despite the unspeakable tragedy that happened just yesterday, life had a way of moving on—at its usual monotone pace.

"Gotta find a way to keep yourself sane," Kuin said, shrugging.

She felt her phone vibrate in her hand and pulled it back sharply. A notification popped up at the top of the screen. The sender was unknown and the short-hand text it displayed was a garbled mess of random characters.

Oh, ho…

"Is something wrong?" one of them had asked.

Kuin gave her a dearth look, explaining, "It's work. They want me to come in. Boss says we're pretty short-handed 'cuz of what happened yesterday. I know I promised we'd hang out, but I really hafta go."

"You always bail on us whenever we make plans."

Kuin flashed a dimple-inducing smile; a look she had perfected in the mirror. "Sorry, Mari. It's not like I'm doing it on purpose. I can't let the boss down, you know? I really like this job. I can't lose it."

Chastised, the other girl ducked her head down. "A-Ah, is it because of… what happened to your dad?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

"I…" she tried to say, but her mouth was chalk dry. Unconsciously, Kuin licked her lips. She quirked her head, and gave her companions a sad smile. "Well, yeah sorta." She laughed, her companions joining in awkwardly. For a brief moment, she caught her smiling reflection in the glass. The image had twisted into an unnerving mimicry of herself.

It was good.

Smiling was good. It belied the turmoil churning in her chest.

The train slowed to a stop.

"Ah, this is me," Kuin said, waving. "I'll catch up with you girls when I can!"

Kuin barely caught their reply as she exited the passenger cabin and onto the platform proper. Eyes glued to her phone, she rattled off a quick reply to the unknown number, agreeing to the meet.

Kuin sighed.

Being a villain was tough on its own; having to lead a double life as a normal high school girl on top of it was killer. She giggled to herself, drawing a few curious stares to her.

A part-time villain.

It was strangely apt.

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Thirty seconds, Arisato. Go get hydrated," Takahara told him. "Who'd thought that a bean sprout like you could last for so long?"

With a strangled breath, Arisato Minato dumped himself down on the bench. He reached for the bottle near him, not quite falling over on his side, as he took small but quick gulps of water. He levelled a look at Takahara, unable to muster a glare at the man's words. Minato had cycled through spar after spar without rest. Takahara had called it a stamina circuit. His latest bout with the man had left him floored. Takahara certainly was tenacious, he'd give him that.

Still, it was the distraction he needed after such a strange day.

When Minato woke up this morning, Yu was nowhere to be seen in his apartment. A cursory check of his phone detailed a message of thanks and not-so-succinct _'I got stuff I need to do today, so let's meet soon'_.

Yu had not replied him since.

Whether UA's decision to give its students leave to recuperate from yesterday's tragedy alluded to trouble brewing in the administration… Well, Minato had no clue. However, after puttering around his apartment for half a day, he came to a rather obvious conclusion. He needed something to keep his mind busy. Thankfully, he had found exactly that at Takahara's kobudō training hall.

"Yao-chan, stop dawdling."

On the other side of the room was his next opponent.

Her hand glided over the weapons' rack, slender fingers gently caressing the length of each weapon. Every so often, they'd find purchase on a hilt, but she'd glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, as if gauging his reaction.

Each time, he'd simply shrug.

She finally made her choice, drawing a bo staff from the weapons' rack.

Taking a final sip of his water, he wiped away the excess that dribbled down his chin. He placed his bokken to one side, before taking a similar weapon and facing his opponent on the practice mat.

Minato breathed deep and hard.

"Don't think I've ever seen either of you using a staff before," Takahara said. The man stood on the boundary of the practice area, halfway in between them. He was pensive. "Yao-chan, I assume you've had some training?"

Across from him, Momo had her weapon tucked underneath her arm as she adjusted her padded gloves back onto her bare hand. She gave Takahara a solitary nod before settling the protective face-guard over her head.

Momo had been subdued today and it showed in their spars.

"And you, Arisato?"

He shrugged.

Takahara sighed, mumbling, "Such talkative students I have today." He had a motion with his hands, bringing them together. "Bow," he said sharply. "Begin!"

The moment he righted himself from his bow, Minato felt the presence of a being enter his mind. The feeling of contentment flooded him, only soon to be replaced the rushing high of an impending battle. Memories of a life not his own came to him; it was a life full of strife. Throughout those battles, there was but three constants; his weapon, carved from the great and terrible behemoth, Coinchenn, his companion and charioteer, Láeg, and his horses, Liath Macha and Dub Sainglend.

Just as Cu Chulainn lived in battle, he died.

The staff Minato held in his hands was certainly no Gáe Bulg, but his persona had willed that he treat it as one; the Hound of Ulster would have nothing less. Unconsciously, he twirled the weapon around him, switching the staff seamlessly from hand to hand before settling it in a reverse grip on his right.

With a sigh, Minato forcibly returned Cu Chulainn to the sea of souls. It would be dishonourable to face Momo aided by the unnatural ability of the legendary Irish warrior.

Like Takahara had said, powers had no place in his dojo.

Momo herself had yet to move. Instead, she shifted her body sideways, presenting a leaner profile; her staff held defensively at a downward angle. Through the tiny slits of her face-guard, he could see her large black eyes, cagey yet determined.

In response, Minato stalked forward.

He traced her from top to bottom, sussing out a weakness in her stance. Occasionally, he'd strike out with his staff, probing at an opening. His feints were stonewalled. That was all the warning he had.

Instincts guided him as Minato jerked his head back, narrowly avoiding the first swipe aimed for his neck. With a quick twist, he chopped at the back of her wrist, which went unanswered as Momo retreated.

"Yao-chan," he heard Takahara say. "Push on."

She didn't need another prompt.

Momo surged forward and ducked low. She pivoted, slashing the staff in a full circle at his feet.

Minato lazily hopped over it. Her attack wasn't the fastest; it was a poor choice given how unwieldy the staff was. It would have been all too easy to counter. Had he succumbed to a vicious streak, he could have stepped on her staff and snapped it in two, ending the fight there and then. Instead, he stepped back. Takahara would have reamed into him for being passive had he been fighting the man, but Momo…

She froze.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Takahara open his mouth. Minato wordlessly shook his head, warning the man off. Surprisingly, Takahara acquiesced.

Minato came at her, faster this time, thrusting his staff forward like a spear. Her grip on her weapon was loose, so much so that he almost knocked it off on the first try, but she parried it―barely. However, with each deflection, he carried through the motion, circling around his underclassman and raining down an onslaught.

She had no answer.

Minato slowed to a stop, lowering his weapon down by his arms. "We're done. Call the match, Takahara-san."

The slight had the desired effect.

It must have been borne out of desperation, but the normally reserved girl lashed out with her weapon, aiming it at his head. There was a meaty clatter as Minato sidestepped the attack and received her staff with his own, forcing their weapons in a deadlock.

Through her visor, a mortifying look came over her features. "S-Senpai! I didn't mean to… I apologi—"

Her grip loosened.

Momo's distraction would prove costly, and Minato intended to punish her for it. With a simple dip of his forearms, he mimicked the motions of a circle, disentangling their weapons, and in a quick motion, thrust his staff forward at her helmet.

It was scary how flexible his underclassman was.

Momo arched her back like a seasoned gymnast. Minato couldn't help but admire her form as his angled attack seemed to follow the curve of her body, meeting nothing but empty air. With a forceful kick, his weapon was pushed upwards. The girl created space by pirouetting backwards, with her staff planted firmly on the ground. She was breathing deeply, but with the experience no doubt borne out of practice, flowed back to a rigid stance with her weapon held at the ready.

"We're even," Minato said simply. "Would you like to continue?"

It was hard to mistake the fervour in her eyes.

* * *

0.0

* * *

Everything about this room was stifling.

Cold, sterile walls.

Nondescript steel furniture.

A two-way mirror that she pointedly tried not to stare at.

Then again, Takeyama Yu didn't expect an interrogation room to be the most inviting place in the National Police Agency Headquarters. It didn't help that the room was unnaturally cold. Combine that to the fact that she was seated on a steel chair with only a layer of skin-tight spandex separating the unyielding surface and her precious behind…

Well, Yu couldn't help but fidget in her seat. Besides, staying stock still only reminded herself that fidgeting was an option. That only made her fidget more, which made her butt feel colder.

"That's it!"

The chair screeched against the tiled flooring as she stood up, glaring at the mirror in what could only described as pure unadulterated hate.

"Will someone—"

That was when the door to the interrogation room swung open. A humanoid cat, one of the Japanese Bobtail breed, nonchalantly walked in with his nose buried in a stack of documents. "Takeyama, it may be almost four in the afternoon," he said, without looking up at Yu. "But considering the day that I had, it is still far too early for your special brand of crazy."

"Kaneko," Yu hissed. "Turn the goddamn heat up!"

The cat, Kaneko, gave her a quick once-over before turning back to his reading. "The whole building is on centralised heating, so can't do much for you there. You should really consider not wearing spandex as a costume. Also…" he pointed at the badge slung around his neck, "I made rank two weeks ago, so that's Detective Kaneko to you."

"Congrats," Yu muttered lazily as she plopped back down on her seat. "You're finally at a pay grade where you can actually do something about those clothes of yours."

"Now, now… Being a little less snide to your interviewer is generally the courteous thing to do. Besides, girls go crazy for the whole rugged detective look. They think that they're in some cop drama or something."

"Oh, I bet they do."

"You're my fourth interview today, Takeyama. Give me a break. They're throwing all the grunt work to the rookie detective just when the PSC starts requesting for 'additional resources'."

"That bad?"

"I should be the one asking you that. You were the one on scene. I've just been sitting behind a desk trying to wade through this bureaucratic mess for the past eighteen hours straight."

"No wonder you look like shit, Kaneko."

" _De-tec-tive._ " Kaneko pointed at his badge again and stressed, "You look like shit, _Detective_ Kaneko. Now… Let's start."

He pulled out a voice recorder and pushed a button on the side panel. "Detective Kaneko Jun. The time of this recording is three fifty-six p.m. on the fifteenth of May. I'm acting as an independent enquirer on behalf of the Public Safety Commission, henceforth referred to as PSC. This is my after action review with one of the Pro Heroes who attended to the Mass Trigger Incident at UA. Could you state your identity for the record, ma'am?"

Drawing herself up higher on her seat, Yu answered, "Mount Lady."

"Thank you. Mount Lady was part of the protective detail assigned to the UA Sports Festival. In your own words, could you describe the events prior to the start of the conflict."

She nodded.

"During the Sports Festival, I was grouped together with Kamui Woods and Death Arms as one of the external teams assigned by PSC to the event. We arrived early in the morning and were subsequently briefed by both Principal Nezu and Hound Dog. We were then assigned to specific quadrants, with Death Arms and I charged with taking the festival grounds outside the stadium. Due to his manoeuvrability, Kamui Woods was tasked to roam the surrounding area. Up until the incident, there was nothing suspicious of note. However… However, I—"

"Something you'd like to add?"

Yu steeled herself. "I abandoned my quadrant. Roughly ten minutes prior, I accompanied a student to the stadium. I was inside, near the competitors' area, when the first alert was raised."

Kaneko jotted down something on his notepad. "And what is your relationship with this student?"

"Does it matter? He has nothing to do with it."

Kaneko drew up a document from his folder, and Yu caught a glimpse of a passport-sized photo of a blue-haired boy atop the page. Her heart caught in her throat.

"Arisato Minato, correct? A third-year student. He was recently assigned to your office as part of his workplace training. Transferred to UA at the start of the school year and was scheduled to be transferred over to the Department of Heroics after the Sports Festival."

"Why do you have all that?"

Kaneko was unfazed as he replied, "I'm just being thorough. Could you run through your actions after?"

Yu had half a mind to press the issue. However, there wasn't a point; not when it was clear that Minato had done nothing wrong. Besides, she trusted Kaneko. "I tried to get out of the stadium. _Tried._ It was chaos. People could barely hear me, much less see me in there. I searched around, found an open ledge and jumped out."

"And that was when the villain, Bogi, started his approach towards the stadium?"

"Yes. We tussled for a bit. I managed to overpower him briefly and ended up throwing him into the woods. Endeavour was the one that subdued him in the end. Did they find out why a villain from Kyoto decided to muck around in Tokyo?"

"Investigations are on-going," he explained glibly. "I saw the footage of your battle. They had it plastered up all over the news. You came out very well. There were talks of a citation."

"I don't deserve one."

Kaneko reached for his voice recorder and put it on pause. The humanoid cat shook his head wearily.

"I've been around the block long enough, Takeyama. One thing I realised is that heroic citations aren't meant for the heroes; they're for the public. Whether or not you think you deserve one isn't up to you. Pro Heroes are public figures. If PSC believes that parading you around with a medal around your neck will make the masses happy, well…"

"Yeah, I know," she muttered. "I'm gonna get a parade."

"Exactly. Public support is important for them. It helps to keep them funded when it comes time for the federal budget. And since we're off-record, I will say this: you messed up, Takeyama. You know that well enough. You weren't where you were supposed to be. It doesn't matter if you were just a hundred metres away. Time is crucial when you're forced to play catch-up. That's dereliction of duty, plain and simple. This is going into my report."

Yu couldn't bear to meet his gaze, but she forced herself to. "I understand. I won't dispute it."

"As to whether PSC will publicly penalise you is another matter. Chances are you'll be blacklisted for a while—they'll disregard you for placements in team-ups and assignments."

"That sounds underwhelming," Yu said, but the relief in her voice was obvious. "I was kinda paranoid enough to think that they were going to take Minato away from me, or God forbid, suspend my license."

"Doubt it. Their image is in the shitter. I don't think they want air out any dirty laundry in this aftermath; that will only fuel the narrative that this was a catastrophic failure. They had more than fifty Pro Heroes, not to mention All Might and Endeavour, in attendance for the Sports Festival. Yet, they couldn't get a handle on the situation until it was far too late."

"We were hampered, Kaneko. There were more heroes in attendance to watch the festival than actually guarding it."

"I'm not trying to assign blame," Kaneko said. "The NPA are equally at fault. We've allowed this Trigger epidemic to continue unimpeded. All of it—the drugs, villains, our collective inaction—have led to this disaster being the terrible tragedy that it was."

"Everything is easier in hindsight, huh?" Yu asked, blowing out a tired breath. "I feel like I just had this conversation yesterday."

"It is," Kaneko said, serious. "The only hope is that we take concrete actions to never allow a tragedy like this to ever happen again. There's been talk lately of discuss passing stricter laws on drug trafficking and widening the parameters of policing powers for narcotic offences."

"It sounds like a step in the right direction."

"Only if it passes. That raid in Nakano was our largest into this Trigger syndicate and we're still not making a significant dent in their supply chain. For every Trigger supplier we arrest, more keep sprouting up. The Commissioner General is already in the midst of setting up a special task force. I'm pushing for a slot."

Yu leaned in closer. Inevitably, Kaneko did the same. "I was working on something prior to this," she said quietly. "It might be something, might be nothing too, but if it's concrete, will you back me up?"

Kaneko's features hardened. "You're a Pro Hero, Takeyama, not some undercover agent."

Yu ignored the slight and smiled a wry half-smile. "Let me help. I know you guys are swamped. If it's hinky, I'll come straight to you." She held up a hand. "I promise."

"I don't like it."

Yu thinned her lips, saying, "You've known me for pretty much my whole career, Kaneko—as short as it is. You know I'm serious about what I do. I'm not just a twenty-metre tall wrecking ball that breaks down buildings; I can be more than that." Her eyes were large and pleading. "Let me have this chance to get something right."

The cat was silent.

"You're setting down a path I've seen people take one too many time. You're angry," Kaneko said. When Yu tried to rebut, he stopped her. "You're angry because of your inactions, and you believe that there is still a wrong that you must personally right."

"It's not like that," she mumbled. "I just wanted to help."

"Cooler heads must prevail, Takeyama. No one doubts your ability or willingness, but any more of this, and your judgement will be called into question." He gave her an unreadable look. "Ultimately, I have no say over your actions. I can't tell you not to do it, but think about what consequences your actions may bring."

He reached for his voice recorder. "We've sidetracked too much. Let's continue with the interview."

At that point, Yu could only bite her tongue and nod, because her stomach wasn't the only thing churning.

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Curry rice?"

Arisato Minato stopped to look at the shop window.

There were a variety of food replicas on display, some more appetizing than others. His companion appeared indecisive. Momo puffed her cheeks from side to side as she gave the limited offering a quick glance, before turning back to look down the narrow shopping street they had just passed.

"Something else?" Minato followed her line of sight—to an eatery he had overlooked. "Soba?"

Her eyes practically lit up. "Do you mind? I haven't had soba in ages."

Minato shook his head in reply.

Together, they made their way back down to the hole-in-the-wall soba restaurant in relative silence. The two were greeted warmly by the staff upon entering and were directed to an empty section of the counter right by the entrance.

"I just realised," Momo said. She didn't turn to look at him. Instead, her gaze lingered on the kitchen staff going about their preparation. "I know we have lunch together occasionally, but this is the first time we're spending time together outside of school and the dojo."

"Our first dinner," he said. "I wonder what took so long."

"We were busy, I suppose. You always had to rush off for work after our practice sessions, and I had my household matters to attend to. There just wasn't time for dinner."

Offhandedly, he replied, "We should make time. You can decide where we'll go next."

"Really?"

"If you wish."

Momo alternated between shaking her head and nodding, almost like she was bouncing in place. "Definitely. There's this amazing restaurant we should try. The wait list is more than six months long, but my father is friends with the executive chef; I'm sure he could get us a table."

He raised an eyebrow at her exuberance. "I may not be able to stretch my meal allowance that far."

She blinked, far too much like an owl. "We could also try the Prince Curry Palace down the street," she said, swallowing thickly. "It's the companionship that matters most—less so the food."

Minato smiled at his underclassman. "Exactly."

It wasn't long after that their orders arrived. Just as he was about to dig in, he noticed that Momo was fidgeting in her seat, biting at her utensil.

"How do you do it, senpai?" she asked him suddenly. "Compartmentalise, I mean. After everything that happened yesterday, you look so normal. I can't get over how forced it feels for me to act like nothing is wrong."

"Did you sleep last night?"

"Not a wink." Momo smiled ruefully. "It wasn't my first brush with villains. My entire class was attacked by the League of Villains a few weeks ago. It was," she gripped her chopsticks tight, "it was…"

"Death?"

Momo nodded mutely.

"You don't get used to it. At least, you shouldn't. Once you do…" _It becomes a part of you._ "You lose the part of you that's human." _One part of what makes you whole._ "It's normal to feel something. Even more so, wanting to not dwell over it."

She was picking at her tempura, big black eyes downcast.

"Could you tell me what happened?" Minato asked her.

Momo was hesitant at first, but relented, "After you left, my classmates were still arguing over what we should do. Neither Iida nor I could put an end to it. When Bakugo suddenly ran off, there were quite a few that went after him."

"You didn't."

He hadn't needed to ask.

She shook her head. "No… In a sold-out stadium that could seat well over twenty thousand attendees… That kind of crowd density, the tragedy wouldn't have solely been those affected by the Trigger outbreak."

It dawned on him. "The stampede."

"I managed to convince those that stayed and a few others from another class to help. I wasn't even thinking at that point. I just acted. I split everyone into groups and sent them to different parts of the stadium to help the evacuees."

"That's impressive."

"That was only because my friends were willing to stand alongside me." Her voice was quiet; she didn't look up. "That's why I've been thinking a lot lately, about the kind of hero I aspire to be—when I was young and as I am now," she said slowly, uncertain.

Minato motioned with his head to continue.

"You must understand. I am aware of my… circumstances in comparison to my peers. I've had a very fortunate and comfortable upbringing. I did not want for nothing. I was afforded the best education. As such, I was naturally expected to to excel, which I did… for as far back as I could remember. I couldn't place when I realised it, but it had always been building inside of me—this constant fear of failure that had been driving me forward." She fiddled with the sleeves of her uniform. "It created issues, even during elementary school, but it was towards the end of my junior high that it became more prevalent.

"It was lonely being placed on a pedestal. I hated it," she said, her voice quiet. "I dreaded attending UA. I couldn't stand the notion of prolonging this ordeal for three more years." She leaned back and glanced upwards, for once an earnest smile reaching her lips. "Thankfully, I was wrong."

"What changed?"

"I did—because of everyone in 1-A and because of you."

"We've only known each other for a month. Short of our practice sessions and lunches, I don't see how I could have done that."

"I could never beat you," Momo said plainly. "In all fifty-three bouts we've had, not once was I able to knock you off your feet."

"It was practice. There are rules, handicaps. If you used your Quirk—"

"I'm not the only one fighting with a handicap, am I?"

He rolled his eyes at her, not willing to press the issue. "Your point?"

"I was prideful—too sure of my abilities in spite of my Quirk that it would be enough to overcome a senior in the Department of General Education. It was a bitter pill to swallow; to know that I had been wallowing in self-pity because of a misguided belief I had propagated all my life. Failing was cathartic; it was a relief. Each time I returned to the dojo and faced you, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I was one step closer. Failing slowly became an afterthought. It would simply serve as a means to overcome an impossible obstacle."

"Am I your final boss?"

She slapped him lightly on his wrist, continuing, "I told myself that I could no longer allow the fear of failing to impede me. Yet, during the attack on the festival, that fear crept back in. Failure didn't mean a wounded pride or dropping out of a tournament. Had I failed, made a misstep, someone could have died, and it terrified me."

"That… can be a good thing to hold onto," Minato said into the lingering silence. "That fear—it's not something that goes away. No sane person can rid themselves of that doubt. But the reverse is just as dangerous."

"When someone doesn't think of the consequences?"

He nodded slowly. "It's a fine line to cross. Action versus inaction. Recklessness and passiveness. The Pro Heroes out there, they're not perfect. No one is. Choices have to be made—hard ones. Not all of them will turn out in their favour."

Momo was pensive.

"But what you did mattered to someone that day," Minato said. "Never doubt that."

"That just means that there's someone else whom I didn't reach."

Minato let out a tired breath. "Don't start by saving the world. Start with that one person. That ideal that you've built in your head… Don't stop reaching for it. It's hard to see it now, but you'll be a great hero—one day."

"One day?"

"Once you've beaten your final boss," he said, shrugging. "Maybe."

Momo smiled wryly. She took a moment to compose herself, straightening in her seat, and proceeded to take a big bite of her vegetable tempura.

Minato did the same.

"It's good…"

Not seeing the need to speak, Momo simply nodded.

"My turn for lunch this week."

She nodded again.

"Any preference?"

"Onigiri would be nice."

The companionable silence lingered until…

"Senpai?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Minato returned her thanks with a smile.

* * *

0.0

* * *

As her saviour whirred to life, slowly distilling the life-sustaining elixir in tiny droplets, Kayama Nemuri heaved a sigh of relief.

One of the few perks about being a teacher at UA was that as a faculty member, one was never a few steps away from an espresso machine. The bad thing was that they had to share, and Kan was getting awfully testy behind her.

It wasn't her fault that she brought her thermal mug.

"Thank you all for attending this meeting," Nezu said, climbing up its bolster seat to take its place on the table. "I know it's been a tiring day, and I appreciate your patience in the matter. My earlier meeting ran later than expected."

"So how did it go?" Kayama asked, now on her fourth capsule. Kan had by now vacated his position in line behind her and begrudgingly settled for tea.

Nezu motioned to itself. "I'm here, am I not?" it said, not at all concerned. "However, concessions were made; concessions that I do not entirely agree with."

"Vultures," Cementoss said. "Vultures dressed in the guise of men."

"What agenda was being bandied around this time?" Snipe asked.

"They were discussing the need for better security, for better protection measures within the school that exists… outside of our jurisdiction." Nezu held up its paw to forestall any rebuttals. "It's been agreed—in part, not fully. Failure, repeated at that, cannot go unanswered. We cannot allow to be seen doing nothing in the face of such a tragedy."

"To say that we are doing nothing is an exaggeration," Ectoplasm said. "I've worked with Hound Dog and Power Loader both to update the gaps in our system. The carrier bees that were allowed entry were an anomaly; Power Loader has rendered extensive anatomical profiles to distinguish between natural and unnatural organisms."

"Anything unnatural will be flagged and activate our emergency defences," Power Loader droned.

"It's the perception of doing nothing," Kan said. "Besides, it doesn't protect us if our enemies are already inside the school. If the League of Villains found a way, there's a possibility that others would too."

"Mannn~~" Yamada said. "I know we gotta keep it a hundred, but this day won't ever end if we continue nitpicking every possible scenario the villains might think up."

"Speaking of which," Kayama interjected. "Any leads so far, All Might?"

The dishevelled form of Toshinori shook his head. "According to Tsukauchi, no one has claimed responsibility for the attack. The only commonality the police have found is that these carrier bees were present in a number of Trigger-related incidents throughout Kanto, but nowhere else. No matches were found in the Quirk Registry database either."

"It's likely a cell operating in the region," Aizawa offered.

"That is the current assumption."

"As it is," Nezu said. "It is quite obvious now that no one individual is behind these attacks, and we cannot further discount this new unknown element acting against us in the future."

"What do you propose?" Cementoss asked.

Nezu folded its paw atop the other. "It may sound counter-intuitive given that the recent attacks have occurred within our walls, but we cannot allow the students to feel unsafe attending school. That is why I've handed in a proposal for UA to transition to an all-boarding school system."

"Bwah?"

Kayama, who was in the midst of sipping from her thermal mug, stopped. Similar reactions were replayed across the table, some more delayed than others. Before them, Nezu's pleasant smiled never wavered.

"Oh God," Kan murmured, massaging his temples. "This is where I die."

"UA is to be a testbed to trial this new initiative," Nezu explained. "If the outcome is… favourable, it is likely that other schools in the country may adopt the same approach. In return, security bots manufactured by I-IS will be deployed to guard the campus. This is what I meant by concessions being made."

"The I-IS?" Yamada asked. " Sounds fancy."

"I-Island Security," Snipe answered, his tone was unusually severe. "Boss, are you sure? To be wholly reliant on a system like this is foolhardy."

"It is not ideal, but it is the only way forward we have."

"Bah! Those security bots won't last the week," Power Loader said. "Hatsume will see to it personally. Don't be surprised if you notice more than a few go missing."

"That being said, Majima," Nezu piped up. "Those bots are being delivered on-site as we speak. I understand most, if not all, of you have been working through the night, but I will require everyone's assistance to integrate—"

"Ah, hell…" Kayama heard Kan mutter.

The man was already making a beeline for the espresso machine.

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Follow me, Queen."

Hachisuka Kuin promptly fell in line behind her contact—the villain knows as Nemoto Shin. "Strange place for a meet, Doc," she said, smiling at his broad back. "I know a cemetery is supposed to be secluded, but it's hard to break the image that you have some kind of fetish for dead people; what with how you look and all."

Her contact didn't break stride. Neither did he visibly react to her words; his current state of dress didn't allow her to see it eitherway.

He wore a black, loose-fitting cloak, paired with a tall derby hat that hid the shape of his head. Fixed over his face was a plague doctor's mask. Its eyes were jutted out like circular discs, and Kuin was unable to peer beyond the inky darkness that lay within.

In response, he replied, "You know my name. Address me as such."

"Got'cha, Nemoto-san."

Kuin looked around, noting the once familiar surroundings. There were more tombstones—even more unfamiliar names marked in red and white. She remembered a few of them. At least, she thought she did. Time had a way with messing with those memories. She had been here often in her youth, and the path Nemoto was leading her towards was one well-travelled.

"Uh, why are we here?"

"To pay our respects to the dead."

Kuin frowned, saying, "Hey, look… This mysterious shtick is wearing thin. You found out who I am, I'm guessing? We're here to visit my father's grave, aren't we?"

Nemoto remained quiet.

"Awesome. Is this where you try and strong-arm me into doing your bidding? You know it's pointless, right? I'm just in it for the money, which incidentally," she made a motion with her hand, "gimme…"

He brushed past her, unmindful of her words, and stopped before a tombstone.

"Hachisuka Touma. Proctor the vigilante."

Kuin sighed, clinching her brows wearily. "Can we not do this, please?"

"Seven years ago, Proctor misidentified and engaged a suspected villain. In the ensuing struggle, the suspect sustained irreparable damage to his brain. He was left in a comatose state, which he remains in, to date."

"What's with the lengthy exposition?" Kuin grumbled, looking around. "I know all this."

"As it turned out, the man was innocent; he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and just so happened to come across an over-eager vigilante. It made public news. Wrought with guilt, your father unmasked himself—"

"Are you monologuing?"

"—and surrendered to the police."

"Oh God, you are."

"In the end, he committed—"

"The coward killed himself," Kuin gnashed out. "Gods, what do you want me to say? That it ruined our family? It did. We couldn't escape his name, much less what he did." She sighed and mashed a palm over her eye-patch. **"** So please… you think you know my life because you pieced a part of it together? You don't—so don't act like you do."

Nemoto remained motionless.

"You overstep yourself, Kuin."

"Well, sorry I had to ruin your fun. I thought this was going to be a performance appraisal; didn't expect to traipse down a shitty memory lane." She shrugged, saying, "In my defence, I'm normally quite polite."

Nemoto reached inside his cloak and pulled out a manila envelope. He threw it at the ground in front of her.

" _Rude…_ " Kuin muttered under her breath as she reached for it.

"We remain pleased with your work—attitude notwithstanding. The observations that you have provided to us were… enlightening. Overhaul has seen fit to reward you."

"This does feel kinda _thick_."

"The latest incident has hastened our timeline. With each iteration of Trigger, we move a step closer to the endgame. Your discretion and ability is highly regarded. It is only natural that your role in this grows, as does the responsibility and expectations Overhaul will demand of you."

"I dunno where you're going with this, but FYI, I prefer freelancing. Besides, I'm not a big fan of dragon tattoos."

"Do not delude yourself, girl. You are but a tool that my young master tolerates," Nemoto said dully. "Beyond that, how goes your other assignment?"

"Not great," Kuin blurted out inadvertently. She winced. "Fuck… I hate it when you do that."

"Explain."

"You know how he gets. Stain can be a… prickly one."

* * *

0.0

* * *

"W-What is this?"

He dragged the serrated edge of his survival knife against the walls of the narrow alley. In the enclosed environment, it screeched painfully, like nails on a chalkboard.

What does it mean to be a hero?

A hero was courageous and selfless. A hero lived by their values and would risk life and limb to protect it. A hero was viewed as the paragon of the human spirit; someone who did extraordinary deeds for the sake of others.

As a boy, Akaguro Chizome grew up idolising that very ideal—All Might.

However, in this age, that definition had changed.

A hero was respected for their costume. A hero was a profession, governed by bureaucrats and funded by tax dollars. A hero was a brand, cultivated by the individual for personal gain.

"Do…"

Heroism and hero worship were two sides of the same coin.

Chizome had grown to despise that bastardisation. Pro Heroes had chipped away at the foundations that All Might had painstakingly built. As Stendhal the vigilante, he had taken it upon himself to rid the world of sinners; those who would erroneously wield their power without conviction. He had no qualms about killing. The end justified the means, and evil would never again taint the lives of the innocent.

"Your…"

Society, however, had labelled him a villain. With that backlash arose complications.

His disillusionment with the reality of heroics only grew worse. He faced down heroes whom actively pursued him; there were plenty who lusted for the fame and recognition. However, by impeding his life's work, they allowed the sickness to fester, and the only thing necessary for evil to triumph was for good men to do nothing.

"Worst…"

It was like switch had flipped within him.

Just as All Might stood for the very ideology he cherished, Chizome would stand alongside All Might—on the opposite end of the divide. For him, it was the ultimate act of self-sacrifice. In doing so, he discarded the mask he had worn as Stendhal and donned a new one.

"Scum…"

The villain known as Stain.

All that remained in the end…

Stain stood over his quarry.

He unsheathed his katana and angled it vertically, letting the sharp edge rest against the hero's neck. "And the world will slowly learn." When Stain spoke, his voice was raspy from disuse. He smiled widely, letting his unnaturally long tongue hang loose.

And violently stabbed downwards.

* * *

0.0

* * *

The knocks on his door were haphazard, hurried.

The feminine voice beyond it was familiar, if a bit slurred, calling out for his name in a 'sing-songy' tone.

Blearily, on uneven feet, Arisato Minato crossed the threshold of his modest apartment and threw the front door open. It proved to be a bad idea as his visitor had been using it as a perch, and he bore the full weight of her person upon him.

He was not proud that he let out an unmanly 'hurgh' and fell to the ground with her.

"Mi-chan, can I crash," Yu hiccuped, and Minato leaned away from her breath, "at your place again?"

"How much did you drink?"

She booped him on the nose and giggled.

Minato sighed, before allowing his head to thump meatily against the wooden tiles of his hallway.

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Pentacles (II)…_

* * *

 ** _Side Note(s):_** _There were some confusion regarding Hachisuka Kuin's presence, as well as the Quirk enhancing drug called Trigger._

 _As it stands, this story is an amalgamation of both the main series of BnHA and its offshoot, Illegals. Some backstories, characters and elements were borrowed from Illegals, but in doing so, I may have messed with the canon timeline. So to not cause any further confusion, please assume that this story is now basically a quasi-AU that I've bastardised to fit my needs._ _  
_


	5. V

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _It sucks that some readers saw the last update as a non-chapter, but they're a necessary evil. As an olive branch,_ _ _I'm releasing this chapter ahead of schedule.__

 _ _ _ _Do take note that I've updated the genre tags for this story. Everything should be hunky-dory now.____

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Yu…"

Takeyama Yu felt someone nudge her arm. In response, she retreated deeper into the blanket and dug her head under her pillow. That small act only served to remind her of the sharp ache throbbing in the back of her skull. Yu squeezed her eyes shut and whined mutely.

"I'm going to school. There's onigiri in the fridge. I also bought you vitamin water. Drink it."

Blearily, she peeked at the shadow looming over her.

"Keys are on the table," the person said plainly. "Lock up when you're leaving. Oh… I kept your stuff in the closet."

"'mm'kay," she mumbled.

The voice sighed.

Yu heard more rummaging in the background, which was followed by a hollow clatter.

"Aspirin is next to the keys."

"You da best, Minato."

Yu only dared to move once she heard the door to the apartment close behind him. With a heavy heart and a heavy everything else, she willed herself to an upright position, her hand finding purchase on the wooden tiles to support her weight. It was hard to leave the unimaginable comforts of the futon she had apparently stolen; every fibre of her being begged her to sink back under the covers.

Unfortunately, directly opposite her was a full-length mirror.

Catching her current state of self only made her groan into her hands. "You suck," she told herself. "You suck so much right now." She was sure that her reflection was nodding along to her words.

This was beyond mortifying.

She'd make it up to him later. Fishing for her phone—which had conveniently been relocated beside her—Yu rattled off a quick text to Minato.

 _ **Me:** __Owe you big time… (sweat drop)_

 _ _ **Me:**_ You'll prolly learn about it in school, but __we're gonna have a thing together in the afternoons from now on…_

 _ _ **Me:**_ So I'll be waiting for you once you're done with classes _

__**Me:**_ Let's do lunch_

His reply wasn't immediate, but she waited patiently for one, seeing that he had appeared online right after she sent it.

 _ **Mount Laddie:** __K_

Minato went offline.

" _K?!_ " she said incredulously.

Yu flopped back down onto his futon and groaned for the umpteenth time this morning. "Rock bottom, Yu." She patted the quilted covers, adding, "Sure feels nice though…"

* * *

0.0

* * *

The door to the faculty's office slid open even before Arisato Minato had the forethought to knock. Tired blue eyes blinked slowly at him. He blinked back. The woman with long spiky purple hair readjusted the folders in her arms and tapped her temple absently.

He bowed in greeting. "Good morning, Midnight-sensei."

"Morning, Arisato-kun," Kayama said pleasantly. "It totally slipped my mind that we had a meeting. I forgot to mention that there's been a change in schedule this morning. We're having a school assembly in lieu of our homeroom period, so I'm afraid we don't have time to rush for our meeting right now."

He nodded by way of understanding. "I'll take my leave first, sensei."

"None of that now. I tell all my little slaves to use my given name when we're in school." Her smile was earnest when she said, "You're officially one of mine now, Arisato-kun. So call me Kayama-sensei."

His ears twitched. Had he misheard?

"Of course."

He made to walk ahead.

"Don't run off just yet. I wouldn't mind some company along the way." With that, his new homeroom teacher escorted him down the corridor, towards the school's P.E. grounds. "How are you feeling, Arisato-kun? I heard you were injured during the incident."

"It was nothing serious. Recovery Girl said I just needed to rest."

"That's good. Sorry, I didn't come around and visit. The last two days have been somewhat hectic." At his questioning look, Kayama explained, "It's the normal procedure we have whenever our students are injured, especially in an official capacity."

"I see… How are things here in school?"

"Terrible."

His eyebrows rose at her honesty.

"You kids are anything but sheltered," she said. "While I understand it's not part of the General Education's curriculum, being aware of the current political climate comes with the territory of attending a school like UA. It's not hard to infer the backlash our dear Principal Nezu is facing."

That would explain the sudden appearance of those autonomous security bots running around campus. On his way into the main building, he had been accosted by one, although it had merely scanned him before shuttling away.

"Will he be asked to step down?"

"Nezu still has some pull, so don't worry about him. Let the grown ups handle the political infighting. You kids just need to focus on your studies. That goes double for you, Arisato-kun. You've been given a lot of leeway to be able to transfer during the semester. Please don't abuse the faith we've shown you."

"I won't," Minato said. "Is that why you called for a meeting?"

"Part of it. I've ironed out your personal schedule for the rest of the semester, but there's quite a bit more that I need to discuss with you personally." Kayama handed him his timetable. "This will be a crash course in heroics unlike anything we've done here in UA."

Minato inwardly winced when he gave his schedule a once-over.

"Normally, the curriculum for third-year students is quite lax," Kayama explained. "We still have a few mandatory subjects that are held here in school, but in your third year, the focus shifts to field work assessments with the various Pro Hero agencies."

Minato gestured at the uniform block that had been highlighted on his schedule. "Is this my field work for this term?"

On and off, his field work was a solid six-hour stretch that had been set aside in the afternoon; some of it had even replaced his regular allotted classes, meaning that he only had to attend school in the morning.

"Yes, your learning will be officially supervised by Mount Lady's agency. Well, partly. Yours is a special case, Arisato-kun. Given that you've missed pretty much all the foundation classes that underpins our Heroics programme, Principal Nezu has deemed it fit to… _improvise_. So while the rest of your peers are going through their own internships, you'll be doubling down by participating in supplementary classes with your juniors, on top of the internship duties Mount Lady requires of you. Of course, we still need to finalise your provisional license with the Public Safety Commission."

His mind spun like a broken record.

"Supplementary classes with my juniors?"

"You'll be joining their classes here and there." Kayama shrugged, adding, "Like I said, it's a crash course. No one ever said it was easy becoming a Pro Hero, much less having to do it in under a year. I naturally assumed you have masochistic tendencies."

He was blinking. "I don't."

"Far be it from me to judge. Maybe you're into humiliation-play or getting trussed up and spanked by schoolgirls."

A lot now.

"No—"

She continued on regardless, grinning wildly, "You're an adult now. I accept all my students regardless of their sexual proclivities. I just want you to know that I'll be there with you every step of the way, just watching and getting of—"

"It's the old hag!"

"Morning, Kayama…"

His homeroom teacher turned to the interlopers, her manic smile having died in her mouth. She produced a whip and snapped it at a familiar face—one he recognised as Hado Nejire—snaring it around her modest frame.

"Who the hell," Kayama hissed dangerously, yanking the whip back, "are you calling an old hag?"

The blue-haired girl was pulled forward, zipping towards them as if she was weightless. At the last second, Nejire released a spiralling wave of energy from the soles of her feet and did an intricate sequence of flips and twists in mid-air to slow her momentum.

"Yahallo, sensei!" she chirped happily, now floating aimlessly around them like an oversized balloon. "Yahallo, Arisato!"

Minato could only muster a wave in reply.

The other girl that had been accompanying Nejire joined their awkward circle; the other students still streaming in were giving them a wide berth. She was petite, with short cropped hair that framed her small face. Despite wearing the school's uniform, she had styled it and herself appropriately. It was hard to describe her look; almost like a rebel that stayed within the rules, given the tiny dash of black that lined her monolid eyes.

"Hey, new guy… Haya Yuyu," she introduced herself simply.

Minato bowed in return. "Arisato Minato."

"You kids were a lot more respectful before puberty struck. It all went to shit in your second year," Kayama grumbled stiffly, undoing her hold over Nejire. "Anyway, it's good that you two know each other. Arisato-kun, I'm leaving you in the capable hands of our class representative, Hado Nejire. She'll be helping you to get settled in class."

That was all Minato heard before he was immediately beset by his new class representative.

Nejire had gotten uncomfortably close, so close that their noses were almost touching. She then leaned her head against his and draped his hair against hers. "Yuyu, do you think this shade of blue will look nice on me?"

Minato wasn't sure if he welcomed this new change of pace. Then again, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Kayama give him a saucy wink as she left.

Maybe it wasn't as bad…

"Not really, no," Yuyu said. "Nejire, he's freaking out."

She regarded him for an instant before taking hold of his wrist. "Let's go find the rest." At the drop of a hat, Nejire switched gears and pulled him along with her. He didn't object. "Ne, ne, Arisato… Can I ask you something? Are you listening? I heard that you don't have a Quirk. How could you not have a Quirk and be a hero at the same time? Isn't that hard?"

"I do have one," Minato answered. "I just don't know what it is."

"Ehhh~~?" Nejire quirked her head to the side and pressed a finger to her lips. "That's so strange. How can you know that you have a Quirk without knowing what it is?" Angling her body, she peeked around him, spying the plain utility bag he was carrying. "What's that?"

"It's a bokken."

"Is that what you use to fight? Are you secretly a samurai? A ninja?"

"Yes, and… Yes."

Nejire clasped her hands together and laughed. "Nin, nin!"

"Please don't encourage her," Yuyu said.

"Hado! Haya! Over here!" He saw Mirio step out from the crowd and wave them over. "You brought Minato-san with you! That's great!" It wasn't long before he was engulfed in another group huddle, courtesy of Mirio.

"Ossu! Introductions are in order." Mirio slapped the back of the black-haired youth next to him. It looked for all the world that his friend would rather be anywhere else than here. "Minato-san, this is Amajiki Tamaki. Tamaki, this is our new classmate, Arisato Mina—"

Collectively, they all stopped and stared as Amajiki scuttled away to the school building and planted his head against a pillar, his back towards them. Thankfully, being in their third-year, their cohort was situated closer to the school rather than in the middle of the pack; although it was still a fair distance away.

Yuyu hummed under her breath. "That wasn't unexpected."

"Ah, my apologies, Minato-san."

Nejire had taken it upon herself to explain, raising a finger, "Amajiki may act like a chicken-hearted person, but did you know he's the second strongest student here in UA. That's so strange, right? Heroes are meant to be like whoaaa~~ but he's all ughhh~~"

"Please don't take it personally," Mirio said. "Tamaki's just a little shy. It takes time for him to warm up to new faces."

"I understand," Minato said. "It's not an issue."

"Oiii, Togata! Why are you hogging the new guy to yourself?"

Peering around the taller teen, Minato saw a myriad of new faces smiling back at him. Seeing the need for another introduction, Mirio had put him front and centre, only to stop suddenly.

There was a notable hush as the tiny mammalian form of their principal took to the stage. Flanked before him were the various faculty members, their features stern.

"Students, please settle down," Nezu said, its voice projected over the school's PA system. It coughed primly and settled a paw behind its back. "It was not that long ago that I stood at this very stage, passing you our well-wishes for the coming semester. Now, look around you.

"Did your eyes linger over an empty space? Is there a familiar face missing? I want you all to remember that sense of loss. That is exactly what your teachers and I are feeling at this very moment. In the last month alone, we have suffered not one, but two senseless tragedies within these very walls. As educators and the ones charged with your safety, we have failed you and humbly ask for your forgiveness."

As one, they bowed.

Angry murmurs broke out among the assembled students; there were more than its fair share pleading for them to lift their heads up. Around him, the mood was subdued. Their anger was reserved, yet still evident. Even the hyperactive Nejire had her head bowed.

"Ahhh, such remarkable students we have. Your sincerity has touched my heart," Nezu said finally, righting itself. "For some, this may seem as nothing more than a token apology. However, this is not a matter of our pride being slighted, but the sense of duty that we have towards each and every single one of you. Your parents, our society, even yourselves have entrusted your safety unto us. This is not something we take lightly."

Nezu begun to pace up and down the stage.

"Make no mistake. We have all taken the peace we have had for granted. In such trying times, it is natural to look towards the symbol that has endured through it all." It chuckled, saying, "No, it is not All Might alone. It is the men, the women, the cute furry rodents, and all the various walks of life that choose to stand together with him.

"A hero perseveres in battle only through the support he receives from those around him. UA represents this ideal down to its very essence. So look around you once more. Then, look inwards, and take my words to heart…"

Its tiny, beady gaze was far-searching.

"All of you here will be the ones to succeed us, to inherit our wisdom and lead us into the coming age. Armed with that knowledge, you must do better and be better. Do not be limited by the examples that we have set." Nezu raised its paw, holding it upright. "Break through those barriers! Go beyond! Plus— _"_

As one, their voices rose into a steady rumble that reverberated around the grounds, building into crescendo that sent a tiny shiver down Minato's spine.

The school roared its reply:

"— _Ultra!"_

Nezu brought down his paw and placed it over its heart. "I am truly heartened by your conviction. Let me then offer you these final words to consider: fur maintenance."

And again, as one, the school groaned.

Just like that normalcy resumed.

"You see, in such uneven weather, it is a given that the sheen of one's fur begins to dull and lose its lustre. The question then remains: how does one maintain…"

So used to their principal's meanderings, the general chatter of those around him rose. Minato was unprepared however, when a body leaned against him. Mirio had clasped him by his shoulders, looking ahead.

"You're taking the first step of many, Minato-san!" he said brightly. "Welcome to Class 3-A!"

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Think of the impact—the implications—on yourselves, as students, future Pro Heroes, and as members of society," Kayama said. She looked up just as the school bell chimed.

Arisato Minato could only manage a quiet sigh of relief when it did. Some of his classes today had been an excruciating affair in catching up to the current syllable. He disliked World History. Having to suddenly take up Modern Hero Sociology after transferring departments was a whole other thing. It would have been worse had it not been for his new seating partner.

Strangely, despite coming off as an 'airhead', Nejire proved to be more than a pretty face. It would have been easy to misjudge her purely on that alone, but her boundless curiousity translated well into her studies.

"Class, stand~~ Bow~~"

Class 3-A intoned together, "Please get married soon, Kayama-sensei!"

Minato cut himself short and sat back down before anyone else. He blinked a few times to clear the fatigue from his eyes.

He must have misheard again.

The wooden ruler Kayama was carrying snapped in her hands. It went unnoticed. She stared blankly at them, which belied how much her hands were shaking. Her smile was strained as she said, "I'm super committed to my job."

The varying degrees of pity directed her way made Kayama wilt.

"It's hard to find a half-decent guy in this city that can cope with a career-driven woman like myself. Traditional gender roles are still hard to overcome at this day and age. T-The guys I meet are 'manboy' losers with bad haircuts!"

"Don't give up hope, sensei!" someone shouted from the back. "He's out there! Maybe lower your standards a bit!"

Kayama visibly deflated and made for the door.

Around him, his new classmates were preparing to leave. He could get the sense that despite the smiles and easy-going chatter buzzing around him, an undercurrent of tension went unsaid in the aftermath of the UA Sports Festival.

It showed in their eyes, in their demeanour.

From what Minato had been able to glean from Kayama-sensei's class, the National Diet were in the midst of discussing a proposal for an organisational restructure of the Pro Hero agencies across Japan.

This came as a result of an unrest that was unprecedented in the current 'All Might Era'. Villainy was on the rise, not just in terms of statistics, but the scale of their audacity and malevolence. Emboldened by that small spark, it had burned into a tiny ember, and what had carelessly been dismissed as inconsequential, had now roared into an incandescent wildfire.

This growing threat saw a greater need for Pro Heroes.

Most of the seniors in UA had already been called upon to assist with their respective agencies. A small number were even approved for an extended leave in view of their internship commitments. One, like the brash shark-human hybrid seated at the back of the class, would tour with a specialised Pro Hero team patrolling the waters of the Sea of Japan.

The teen, Tomoyuki Dan, or… 'Sharknado' as he had adamantly asked Minato to refer to him as, was in the throes of a boisterous farewell with their class representative.

"Wanna bro it out?"

Nejire's face froze into an 'O'. "Let's~~" she said happily, punching her knuckles into the other.

"Aragaki! Help us out!"

"C-Coming!"

Another boy in uniform rushed over. He was mousy, almost child-like in stature, with short brown hair that covered his forehead in messy clumps. His eyes, bright and lively, were focused. He held his hand stretched out before him, and with his other, mimed a circle with a finger that spun clockwise. A translucent cylindrical barrier shimmered into existence around the pair.

The boy, Aragaki Kyosuke, nodded. "T-Ten seconds."

"Hadoken! Our lovable genius-slash-idiot! I'll miss you!" Tomoyuki wrapped the girl in a loose hug, which she happily reciprocated and tightened. It elicited a series of pained cries and laughs.

"Me~~ _guhhh_ ~~too!"

When Tomoyuki released her, Nejire's exposed skin was raw and bloodied; rivulets of blood dribbled freely onto her once pristine uniform. She hid her face behind her hands, gingerly dabbing at her eyes, as her hair coiled and uncoiled seemingly in distress.

"Aragaki! Release it, man!"

"I-It's not time yet!"

Tomoyuki fretted nervously around their class representative. "Are you okay, Hado?"

Trembling, Nejire moved her hands away and smiled. Gentle yet horrifying in the whole, it never once wavered.

That was until Minato realised that the duo had effectively been put on pause. Aragaki mimed his finger in an anti-clockwise direction, and like a slideshow reel in reverse, the events jerkily unplayed itself before his eyes, as did her injuries.

As the translucent barrier fell, Tomoyuki was red-eyed as he stared down at the still smiling Nejire. "Don't ever change," he said quietly. "Swear it."

"Okay~~"

Tomoyuki exchanged a more muted farewell with Minato before moving on. Missing however, was the kind of contact Tomoyuki shared with Nejire.

"It is a by-product of Tomoyuki's Quirk. Due to his heritage, his skin is—"

"—naturally abrasive; to the point that it becomes a danger to those around him."

He found two pairs of eyes looking at him blankly. It was the twin sisters seated in front of him and Nejire.

Identical down to the bone, Shiraishi Eresa and Erise were fair-skinned girls with a shock of ashen hair that trailed down to their shoulders. That only made their eyes, red in the shade of rubies, stand out all the more. The one thing that set them apart however was the non-standard issued name tags affixed above the breast pocket of their uniforms.

"Nejire-san was the first in our class to initiate… 'skinship'."

Eresa placed a hand over her lips, miming a silent laughter. It was something her sister mirrored a beat later. "She wanted to touch his fin. She did not understand why it was so highly-valued."

"She tore off all the skin on her hand."

"It was quite a sight."

Both shivered, their expression freezing in mild delight.

Glancing around, Minato had to admit that it was disconcerting having to surround himself with a sea of new faces once more. It evoked a sense of familiarity, one that ached within his heart. In that blurry haze, obscuring threadbare memories, he half-expected familiar faces where there were none.

Momo had been the first. A steady companionship, albeit a reluctant one on his part initially, that had showed him what had been lost.

Yu was the second. A hurricane he had unfortunately been swept in, and in the eye of that storm, unearthed what laid beneath.

Would there be—

Someone was poking his cheek. _Incessantly_.

"Arisato, stop spacing out~~"

He absently swatted Nejire's finger away and looked up. "Yes?"

"Would you care to—"

"—join us for lunch?"

"Let's have yakiniku!" Nejire said.

Minato shook his head, apologetic. "I'm sorry. Not today."

The twins frowned. They were soon joined by Nejire as she had scooched behind them and mashed their three heads together in an attempt at synchronised pouting. Neither of them seemed concerned, almost like it was a common occurrence.

The top of Mirio's head suddenly phased through the desk beside his; Minato tried not to act startled. "What's this I hear about yakiniku? There's this great place I know around the area. Cheap too!"

"I can't. I made plans with Mount Lady."

He had found himself in this position far too many times—thrice over was he bound. Yet, the same choice lay before him now as it did then. The fear and the pain lingered, but he couldn't let it fester.

Elizabeth, his friends… They wouldn't want that for him.

In that void, hope rekindled.

"How about tomorrow?"

* * *

0.0

* * *

Exiting the passenger carriage, Minato heaved a sigh of relief as he extracted himself out of the mass of onrushing salarymen and their ilk. Such was life in the capital, like a hive of worker bees returning to their queen; it was a veritable ecosystem unto itself.

He found Yu further ahead, just off the exit to the station, idly playing with her phone. Out of costume, she looked like a normal university student—her clothes fashionable yet practical for the season. In her free hand was a plastic carrier from the nearby J-Mart convenience store.

Without looking up from her phone, Yu held it out to him as he neared.

"Lunch?" Minato asked.

"Yeap, I even got us extra desserts. Hope you like store-bought dorayaki," Yu said, motioning him along. "I figured since it's the first day of your internship, we'd take it easy. So we're eating in today. It's about time I showed you the new digs."

"New digs?"

The pep returned in her step. "My— _Our_ ," she caught herself and stressed, "new office, dummy."

Silence lingered thereafter. It was unlike Yu, given how she was, but it wasn't a silence he'd called uncomfortable.

The further they walked from the station, the more the crowd thinned. While they weren't necessarily in the city centre, Kita ward was situated near the outskirts of Tokyo; in terms of proximity, it was closer to Musutafu than Shibuya. As such, the crowd density was naturally lesser during the day, with the ward's only notable attractions being its metropolitan parks.

"This is it." She breathed a happy sigh, looking up.

Yu stopped before a nondescript building that loomed over them—all three stories of it. It was, in short, underwhelming. The small window sign publicising the presence of Mount Lady's agency was diminished by the massive advert of the popular and reputable cram school chain situated just next to her office.

 _Jumon Learning Centre._

"You had a larger billboard outside UA."

"Marketing is about strategic placement," she said matter-of-factly. "It's a bit redundant building awareness here in Kita, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "It's a bit sad."

Yu grumbled unintelligibly, entering the building ahead of him. She bypassed the the elevator completely and took to the stairs two steps at a time. "It's good exercise. Elevators make you lazy."

"Does it have anything to do with the 'out-of-order' sign?"

"This place is a fixer-upper, Minato," Yu said, patting a pillar as they reached the third floor landing. "In its own way, it's kinda charming; adds character to the building."

She led him down a narrow corridor, walking past her nearest competitor, and stood before an opaque glass door towards the end, right by the emergency exit. There wasn't an elaborate sign, just a small 'Hero Agency of Mount Lady' scored across the frosted glass panel. Slender fingers trailed underneath each character longingly.

"I'm proud of it," Yu said faintly, the barest hint of a smile reaching her lips. It was a rare sight to see her so soft-spoken; it actually gave him pause. "I'm proud of myself for having accomplished this, and I'm proud that I have you here with me, Minato."

He didn't know how to react.

Thankfully, Yu was already moving, unlocking the door and ushering him inside.

A blast of stale air greeted him the moment he entered. Looking around, Minato idly realised that her office was larger than it let on from the exterior of the building, but it was a simple room with four walls and nothing more.

Empty workstations, six to be exact, dominated the centre of the office. A singular wooden desk, sturdy and aged, was situated in the far corner, overlooking a reception area with a pair of couches sat in between a coffee table. There was a row of built-in bookshelves that lined the wall behind it, but in contrast, most of the space was unused except for a mess-laden nook filled with documents that was the very definition of ordered chaos.

It made him ill.

Worse, there were some obvious signs that the place looked lived in. A loose garment rack was placed along the side, flanked by a pair of heavy-set luggages and stacks of carton moving boxes.

Minato frowned, eyeing the small pillow and blanket draped haphazardly over one of the couches.

"Well, what do you think? I know it ain't much, but it's ours," Yu said. "Our home away from home. Oh, speaking of which…" She dug into her jeans, snugly fishing out a pair of keys from the pocket. 'Here's your apartment key."

"Keep it. It's a spare."

The blonde quirked a delicate brow and pawed closer. "Oh? One would think this to be an indecent proposal, Minato. A boy on the cusp of adulthood…" She fluttered her eyelashes at him and leaned in close, her tone breathy as she punctuated each syllable, "An older, knowledgeable, irresistible—"

Minato brushed past her, settling his stuff on one of the empty workstations. He then sidled over to the reception area to pick up and unfurl the unkempt blanket. He patted it down and tapered the visible creases before folding it neatly into a pile back onto the couch.

"Gawd~~ You're so sexy right now…"

He ignored her and started to putter around the office. "The keys are a precaution. So you won't wake up half the building next time."

Yu winced and sucked in a breath. "Yeah, that's what the dorayaki is for—an apology dessert."

"Is everything all right? I wasn't expecting you last night."

"It was a bad day compounded by a terrible night of drinking. Stop trying to read into it, Minato," she said. "Besides, I know what you're doing. I'm not moving in with you. So don't look at me like I'm some homeless cat lady and take back your keys."

"You spent the last two nights at my place. I don't mind either way. It's your decision." Minato fiddled with the window latch and released the lock, allowing some fresh air and sunlight into the office. He paused to examine the view. "But if you decide otherwise, bring your own futon… and some rent money."

She scowled. "Mina—"

"Consider it a home away from home," Minato cut her off. "What's in here?" He gestured to a separate door within the room.

"It's just a utility closet. W-Wait! Don't open it!"

Minato took a moment to process what he was seeing.

He stepped around the door and opened it fully, allowing the older woman to view her secret shame in all its entirety. There were rows upon rows of opened boxes that contained shampoos and conditioners lining the width of utility closet; all modelled in the same motif as her Mount Lady alter ego. At the far corner, hidden behind more paraphernalia, he spied something better; a life-sized cut-out of Mount Lady promoting her named brand product.

He promptly took it out for her to see.

"Guhhh…"

" _Lady Hair._ _For the beautiful you… Highlighting your outer beauty to reflect the inner you,_ " Minato said, reading the slogan aloud. "I've never seen this before."

Yu was hesitant.

"When I first started out, I was desperate, okay? My old business manager said that they'd pay good money to use my likeness, but the company tanked before they could even start distribution. To compensate me, well… long story short, I pretty much have a lifetime supply of shampoo and conditioner." Yu snatched away the bottle he was examining. "For what it's worth, it's actually a really good product," she said begrudgingly. "You can take a box if you want."

Minato turned to peer into the mess that was her utility closet and then back at the office. He hid a sigh.

"We're cleaning your office."

" _Our office!_ "

Minato rolled his eyes at her.

* * *

0.0

* * *

It was a more arduous task than Arisato Minato had first imagined.

By the time they were done with their spring cleaning, the skies above had lost its colour, and in its place, faded to black. What had been their lunch instead became their dinner. Cold as it was, it was a fine reward for their efforts today.

A step lower than an orderly office, but a welcomed one nonetheless.

Both of them had situated themselves at Yu's desk in the far corner, with Minato having planted himself on her seat and Yu taking one of the other chairs from the empty workstations. In between sorting the mountain of documents piled atop her desk, he munched on Yu's apology dessert of red bean dorayaki and pointedly tried to ignore his boss.

"Yeah, I mean the design is similar, but there are nuances to your costume, Minato." Yu gestured wildly at the sketchpad she was shoving in his face. "Nuances to make it looks more masculine. We're maintaining the same colour palette, but the hues will be darker. It will look amazing!"

As annoyed as he was with her right now, Minato couldn't deny that Yu had a hidden talent for the arts. It was actually an impressive sketch of him—content notwithstanding.

"I will not," he stressed again slowly, "dress up like you and call myself Mount Laddie."

"Minato, I will love you forever if you do this for me, like 'buy you lunch and dinner everyday' kinda love. This is our only chance at forming a hero dynasty."

"No."

"Just the name then?"

"Yu…"

She let out a lip-trill and retreated into the crook of her arm in apparent dejection. "Then you gotta fill this out on your own," she told him, blindly handing him a form.

Minato gave it a cursory read-through and reached for a pen. It was an application for his Provisional Hero License. Most of the details had already been pre-filled for him. The only exception being his hero name and costume. Strangely, his Quirk was listed as _TBA_.

Given the recent turn of events, he hadn't given his chosen profession much thought. A costume was simple. He worked best fitted with a set up similar to how he operated during his SEES days; armour, preferably light, that favoured mobility.

Minato wrote down as much.

His hand lingered over the name column. He made to write something, but Yu stopped him.

"Whoa!" she said, reaching over to grab him by the wrist. "Wanna run it by me first? Hero names aren't permanent, but the first one tends to stick."

"I was going to put my name."

Yu shook her head, frowning. "I'd rather you didn't. Your Pro Hero name is important. It carries weight, it defines who you are, but most importantly, it won't drive you batshit insane."

Minato blinked. "What?"

"I'm not joking," she said, as she leaned back into her seat. "Pro Heroes are public figures. Some people may see it as a job or a calling, but there's no escaping the hang ups of being in the public eye; it comes with the territory. That's why we hide our identities."

"But it's not hard to figure out who you are, Yu."

"Minato, I lived in a small resort town in Hokkaido. I'm pretty sure everyone back home knows who I am. My Quirk isn't something that's easy to hide; I wasn't actively hiding it either."

"Then is there really a point?"

"I'm not saying I have the right answers," Yu explained with a huff. "It's complicated. I'm just giving you my take on it. Mount Lady, the Pro Hero, is a mask and a costume. She's not Takeyama Yu, but Takeyama Yu _is_ Mount Lady. You need that distinction. Do you get what I mean?

"I know it sounds insincere coming from me, but a Pro Hero cannot be allowed to be anything less than perfect. This is the perception society has of our role. We have to be the embodiment of justice, of righteousness, of everything good that humanity stands for _._ _We are that ideal_ ," she emphasised with her hands. "But embodying that ideal, it's… to become something beyond human."

Her violet eyes were downcast, sombre.

"Honestly, I can't be that... I won't ever be that, but I want that for her—for Mount Lady—and to not just allow it to be wishful thinking. I think it's easier to reconcile who I am as a person and who I am as a Pro Hero. I mean, it's two sides of the same coin, but it helps."

Yu placed her hands over his and smiled softly. "I guess what I'm trying to say is Arisato Minato is a hero, but don't confuse him as a Pro Hero. Having to _always_ live up to that ideal… It will break you in the end."

Minato opened his mouth to say something, anything, but not for a lack of trying, the words failed to reach him.

In a world populated by heroes, he once believed he understood what it meant to be one—better than anyone. However, the choice he had made in the end, standing in the eclipse of The Fall…

It was selfless, but it wasn't altruistic.

He didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart, or for the sake of an impossible ideal, his was an act borne out of necessity—a necessity to protect the irreplaceable bonds he had forged.

Had it been anyone else in his position, would they have done the same?

"If you had a choice," Minato started, faint, "to save the world from destroying itself, would you give up your life, knowing that in perpetuity, humanity would never change and they would never know of the sacrifice you made?"

Yu drew her hands back and let out a breath like she had been punched. "Fuhhh~~ That's a toughie. I've always hated these weird ethical dilemma questions, but what the heck…"

She stole his pen and started to sketch something on her sketchpad.

The first illustration was of a globe, with tiny people holding hands across the top of it. She cancelled one, violently striking him off the page, and circled the rest.

"Rationally speaking, trading one life for the entire world sounds like a no-brainer, but to devalue that life that has to be sacrificed, it's a disservice to the individual."

Yu then motioned to the face she had drawn, one with an exaggerated frown. Slowly, the face was given more details; long hair, styled like hers, a domino mask, and horns even.

"People are more willing and conscious to do good, if there's recognition attached to their actions. I was—I am shamefully one of them, Minato. Is that necessarily a bad thing? I dunno… But doing good things for selfish reasons sounds like a weird paradox, you know? Then again, you just sacrificed yourself to save the world, does the motivation even matter at this point?"

Yu pulled back her sketchpad and started on something else. When she finally put her pen down, he bore witness to the globe imploding, with dozens of little people strewn across the world with tiny 'x' in place of their eyes.

"Then again, the world is going to end even if you didn't make that sacrifice, right?" she asked him.

"Yes."

Yu stared at him, her gaze inscrutable but sharp, as she rested her chin over her fingers. "The decision not to save the world becomes moot; it becomes illogical. Unless… you believe that the world should end, that humanity deserves their most obvious conclusion—inviting their own self-destruction."

The sharpness of her gaze dulled and she leaned back into her chair, staring at the ceiling.

"But since you're asking me personally… Yeah, I guess I would sacrifice myself. Would I be doing it for the right reasons? Partly, even unconsciously maybe. But in the end, I'd do it for the obvious one. I'd do it for the people I love—for the ones that I care about most. I'd do it for papa and mama, and for you, Minato."

Yu smiled, devilish. "Because even when I die, I have Mount Laddie to continue my legacy."

Minato sighed, shaking his head.

In the end, everyone had their reasons. What mattered most was their actions; if nothing else, actions beholden only to themselves. A legacy would have been built atop that sacrifice. Even if few—or none—remembered, that legacy would live on.

"Thank you," Minato said. "Things are… clearer now."

"I can't tell if you're just humouring me." Yu crinkled her nose, asking him, "You are, aren't you?"

Standing, Minato scribbled down his hero name in quick succession and lightly tossed the pen back at her. With that, he started to collect their food waste for disposal.

Yu hurriedly snatched the application form. When she set it down, she gave him an indifferent look. "Well, it's not terrible. I could think of a few better. Mount Laddie being one of them."

"I like mine better," he said, smiling. "It think it suits me…"

" _Seriously?_ What kind of name is _—?_ "

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Queen of Wands…_

* * *

 _ **Side Note(s):** The mystery lays hidden within the layers of the cake. Feedback and comments are always appreciated._


	6. VI

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Whoo, 1K release! Also,_ _ _small announcement at the bottom._ Happy Easter and Passover, everyone!  
_

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Wut?" she asked around a mouthful.

His new room-mate leaned against the bathroom door, her toothbrush dangling from her lips, as she bundled her hair into a messy bun. Tired violet eyes blinked up at him beneath a pair of black-rimmed spectacles.

Arisato Minato didn't admit it out loud, but Yu had gotten far too comfortable, far too quickly, around him and their shared living space.

"The school wants me to move into their dorms," he repeated. "They expect me to move in by the weekend."

Yu retreated into the bathroom, the sound of running water and heavy splashing reaching him as he waited, before she exited fully sans toothbrush. She frowned at him. "That's just two more days. Isn't that a bit short-noticed? What about the apartment?"

"I'm under financial assistance. The school agreed to continue subsidising the rent. It's cheaper than voiding the lease." He shrugged, adding, "If you can pay, you could take over for me."

Yu grabbed hold of him by the shoulders and shook violently. "Yasss! I'll take it! Paying that kind of money for rent here in Tokyo… I'd give an arm and a leg for it!" The woman then scrambled for her phone.

"I'm off to school," he said, heading for the door. "I won't be back tonight. There's a house warming party at the dorm later."

Yu didn't hear him apparently because she was in a call. "Papa, you won't believe it! I finally found an apartment! What? That's not important! I mean, it kinda is, but you're totally missing the point! I have my own apart—"

Minato shook his head, shutting the door behind him. It was still better than taking care of her when she was drunk.

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Oh my God!"

A girl, pink skin and equally pink hair, had her hands wrapped around the shoulders of a slender girl with an uneven bob cut. She was shaking the other girl, so much so that the earphone jack appendages attached to her earlobes swung in tandem to her ministrations.

"See! I told you! It's a Todoroki clone!"

Arisato Minato hid a frown.

Her outburst brought the attention of her class solely on him. He recognised a few faces from the Sports Festival, but one in particular stood out—partly because of her hair.

Momo gave him a tiny wave.

Next to him, Kayama cackled. "It's like watching a bunch of predators circle their prey." His homeroom teacher pushed him forward, much lower than he had expected, and into the operations room of Training Ground Beta. "Go mingle with your cute little juniors, Arisato-kun. I have to meet the other teachers to set up the stage."

He grimaced at her, which only fed her amusement as her smile grew, almost tauntingly, in reply. He baulked. His steps were brisk as he made his way over to the group.

Minato exchanged polite nods with a few others, but lagged near the rear, distancing himself. Not surprisingly, Momo made her way next to him. He could sense that they had unwittingly became the centre of attention, given the fleeting glimpses and not-so-subtle stares directed their way.

"Is that really your costume, Minato-senpai?" Momo asked.

He looked down at his attire.

To call it a costume was an overstatement. The design team at UA's affiliate support company had taken some creative liberties with his request, but he wasn't displeased with the outcome. He had his body armour, light as he had requested, yet the high-strength material offered adequate protection and was malleable enough not to hinder his mobility. A thin strip of metal, indistinguishable from the vest, was sewn into the back, trailing the curvature of his spine; his bokken was secured firmly across it.

She was hesitant, saying, "It's somewhat plain."

He took in her costume, or what little of it there was, and wisely kept his mouth shut. "I have no complaints."

Momo wasn't having any of it. "It's part of your image; a Pro Hero relies on the initial impression his costume conveys to the general public. I understand you're comfortable in… this, but perhaps something small—just to accessorise?"

Minato shrugged his shoulders.

She tucked a fist under her chin, her gaze growing critical, as she circled around him. It was, in all honesty, embarrassing, given that her classmates were openly snickering, but Momo suddenly snapped her fingers and exclaimed:

"I know just the thing!" He could hear her Quirk activating, before she draped something soft over his neck. "It looks better now. What do you think?"

He was unsurprised at the craftsmanship of the scarf, but it was strange, in a way, to steal someone else's look; it reminded him all too much of Ryoji. Then again, with how pleased Momo was, he doubted he could say no without crushing the excitement of the now bouncing-vibrating girl. He bunched the fabric up to cover the lower-half of his face.

"If you think so," Minato said. "I suppose it's not so bad."

The alien girl came bouncing up to them.

"Hey! Hi, I'm Ashido Mina!"

Up close, Minato finally noticed her eyes, large and almost squarish, were bright yellow and muddled in the deepest shade of black; in them, he could see her mischief bleeding through. "So uhm," the two squiggly horns peaking through her hair twitched as she spoke, "you're our senior, right?"

"Yes," he said, bowing in greeting. "Arisato Minato."

"Hey, cool! We kinda have the same name!" she cheered with a fist. "So is it true? Did you really transfer to the Department of Heroics by fighting one of the teachers? They said you beat up him so bad that he's still hospitalised!"

"Partly true," Minato answered. "What else did they say happen?"

"That you and our Yaomomo are estranged lovers," Ashido said matter-of-factly. She was quickly smothered by the girl in question. "G-Guh! I-I saw what I saw during the festival, you crazy exhibitionist! Everyone did! Don't try to deny it! Quirk, my butt! You were giving him a free show!"

"It was nothing of the sort!"

"And you made him a scarf?! A scarf that you chose to give him in front of all of us?!" Ashido leaned back, trying to escape from having her face smushed. Although from her enduring smile, it was clear she was having her fun. "How scandalous! Who knew you'd be such a brazen woman?!"

"I-I was merely offering my critique!" Momo said, stammering. "A-As a peer!"

"Eww… You kinda made him look like Aizawa-sensei." The girl with the uneven bob cut grinned, impish. She twirled the headphone jacks on her ear idly, saying, "Guess you got a type, huh?"

"Ashido! Kyouka-chan!"

"Don't be shy, Kyouka! Get in there!" A baby gimp, standing tall at just above his knees, wiped the dribble that leaked down his chin. "G-Grope a bit lower! S-Someone's top might pop off!"

Minato was forced to do a double-take.

"I heard," the voice that cut in was gruff, feigning disinterest, "that a rookie Pro Hero took in a Quirkless intern from UA—some senior who thinks that a wooden sword is enough to prove that he can be a hero."

The outright hostility was a surprise.

The crowd seemingly parted around the speaker; a boy in a near-black costume. His beady red eyes narrowed, shadowed as they were beneath his spiky ashy-blond hair, as he adjusted the enlarged grenades affixed over his forearms.

"Also partly true," Minato said.

The younger blond scoffed and turned away. Minato didn't miss the flinch on another boy—one with scraggly green hair and an outfit to match it; he was looking down at his feet, fists clenched tight.

Minato rubbed the back of his neck, taking in the chaos around him mutely. Being inundated with the dynamics of another class was a pain, more so, when he was introduced to it all at once.

"Quiet," Eraserhead's voice, hard like steel, effectively cut through the chatter.

He strode in with the other faculty members, with All Might leading the way. All at once, his students straightened at attention, even Ashido—Momo aside—had the ability to look ashamed; her cheeks were tinged with a dark red hue that stood out against her unnatural skin.

"I see some of you are making nice with our new guest," Eraserhead said, pausing to blink at him, or rather, his new accessory. The man looked away and cleared his throat. "Right… For those unaware, this is your upperclassman, Arisato Minato. He will join your foundation of heroics classes with All Might from time to time."

"He's here for remedial classes," Kayama said, cackling.

Just like that, Minato could feel the class' opinion of him drop. He shot his homeroom teacher a withering stare, to which the woman simply grinned in turn, slowly brushing a finger against her bottom lip.

"Thank you, Aizawa… Midnight," All Might conceded after a pause. "I would be remiss if I didn't introduce our other guest for the afternoon."

The tiny mammalian form of their principal bundled forward with a flourish. "Yes, it is I, students! UA's lovable furry mascot, Principal Nezu!"

"Principal Nezu has kindly taken time off from his schedule to observe your class today. Do not be surprised if he chooses to join the exercise; I'm sure his insights will prove to be valuable, not just for today, but for your future careers as Pro Heroes!"

A scattered response of 'yes, sensei' met All Might's announcement, some more enthusiastic than others.

"Excellent! Let us not tarry any longer!" All Might continued. "Remember that this will be our final lesson before you embark on your week-long internship next Monday. As such, we'll touch on an important subject. Our lesson today revolves around personal security—or to be more apt, what will be required of you when you are tasked to protect an individual rather than managing and subduing the immediate villain threat."

The lecture continued along the same vein, with All Might espousing the importance of preparation and evasion rather than defeating the aggressors; a brief but spirited debate followed about 'why can't we just kick their ass; we can totally kick their ass', which was ultimately overruled when Eraserhead told everyone to shut up and listen.

When it finally came to the first battle simulation of the class…

"I volunteer Arisato-kun," Kayama said, hand raised. "He's told me so much about wanting to set a good example for his juniors that I don't think it's right to deny his wishes. Please let him go first, All Might!"

"Splendid!" Nezu said, raising its paw as well. "Then I shall volunteer myself to be his VIP. Protect me well, Arisato-san!"

"Ouhhh, I suppose I can't back down then, Principal Nezu. It's only right that I, his homeroom teacher, become the villain."

They… They weren't even trying not to make it look obvious.

Minato stared up at the ceiling and sighed.

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Am I under suspicion?" Arisato Minato asked.

He, along with the tiny form of his VIP, were making their way to the starting point of the exercise; it was a fair distance away from the operations room given how large the artificial city of Training Ground Beta was.

It was frankly a feat of engineering marvel how UA was able to build and maintain a living, breathing city in the first place. To prove his point, a group of civilian bots zoomed past them and stopped before a shop window. Their chatter, a garbled string of beeps and bloops, rose seemingly in excitement.

Nezu, perched atop his shoulder, didn't visibly react to his question.

"Did you know that one in a thousand individuals have their Quirks wrongly diagnosed during their childhood? It does make sense, however. It's not an exact science. Some Quirks are, by their nature, so incomprehensible that there is no distinction between living a normal life versus a powered one."

"It's about my Quirk then?"

Nezu continued as if it had never heard him, "It is due to this oversight that some villains are able to exploit it to conceal their true identities. After all, as comprehensive as the Quirk registry is, it means little if the data is inaccurate in the first place. There was even a study that tracked the correlation between a misdiagnosis and the probability of which a villain is produced. The findings were highly controversial, but it remains an interesting study."

Minato chose to remain quiet.

"Which begs the question: who are you, Arisato Minato?"

"I'm not sure how to respond to that, sir."

"I did leave it as a very open-ended question, didn't I? Forgive me. It's hard to escape my penchant for dramatics." It chuckled, saying, "I have reservations still about my decision to approve your transfer into this programme. It is unorthodox to have an untrained third-year pursue Heroics simply on a whim. Do you know why I pushed for it in the end?"

He shook his head.

"I worry what the future holds for you had I not intervened. You are skilled, I have no doubt, even without the use of your Quirk." Nezu regarded him coolly—as coolly as a furry rodent could be. "And power without the correct guidance can have dangerous and far-lasting consequences. Do you understand what I mean, Arisato-san?"

"So… this is a test?"

"How silly of you. Of course it is. We're in class, after all. Speaking of which…"

There was no bell to signal the start of his exercise. Instead, Minato saw it first before anything else; a faint violet-pink miasma that crept slowly onto the street that they were on. Further ahead, where the gas was visibly denser, hid a shadowed figure sashaying towards them.

"Come to me, my little slaves!" he heard Kayama shout. Her voice was faint, but it wasn't hard to mistake the ire in it. "Come fall into the sweet unforgiving slumber of death!"

All around him, the street descended into chaos with the civilian bots milling the streets suddenly whooping in alarm. They scattered in droves. Minato rushed around a pair of bots in his way, and took an immediate hard left into an adjacent alley that was straddled between two tall commercial buildings.

"She sounds angry."

"At me, no doubt," Nezu said, cheery. "There has been some push-back regarding the recent switch to an all-boarding school system. Kayama should be quite motivated to see this exercise through."

Minato grimaced.

His plan to counteract her Quirk was simple: don't breathe it in. The objective of the battle simulation was to protect the VIP for as long as possible; there wasn't much of a need to confront his villainous homeroom teacher when avoiding her was the best possible solution. That, in itself, was strange. The odds were heavily stacked in his favour given that he had an entire city in which to hide.

Unless…

The feeling of being watched was imperceptible.

Minato ground to a halt next to a random door and bodily shoved his way through, unmindful of the passenger on his shoulder; Nezu squeaked, indignant. Once inside, he barricaded a nearby table against the door and pulled down a shelf over it for good measure. It was crude but effective. His instincts were proven right however, when a distinctive _'bang'_ resounded from the other side.

The door inched open, but no further than that.

"You're a sharp one, Arisato," a voice said through the gap, stern and low-pitched. "Good. Let this be your first lesson: villains do not fight fair. Expect more the longer this goes on. What you—"

"Tough luck, Ectoplasm!" Nezu cheered. "But we're walking away as I speak!"

Minato swatted at his VIP to remain silent.

They emerged from the nondescript backroom into a mock-up of a convenience store. A robot attendant standing behind the counter greeted him upon entry, playing a recording of a woman's voice.

"Welcome to J-Mart!"

The front entrance chimed as the automated doors opened to reveal his mathematics teacher.

Ectoplasm was tall, his frame hidden beneath a long tan trench coat that reached down to cover his prosthetic legs. His mask was an uneasy one, almost villain-like, with sharp narrow eye-slits and a golden jaw-guard that extended past the back of his head. It was hard to get a bead on the man's emotions for a disturbingly wide smile, that reached past his jawbone, was permanently affixed upon his features.

For his peers that struggled with algebraic expressions, this man was the bane of their existence.

The robot turned to Ectoplasm and greeted him.

"Welcome to J-Mart!"

"Your first lesson, Arisato," Ectoplasm repeated, standing tall in front of the entrance, "is that villains do not fight fair."

"Your clone already went through this, sir."

"Lessons need to be reinforced. That is the best way to learn. This lesson, in particular, is a good one. It teaches you to be critical, to not simply take the situation at face value, and to adapt—always to adapt."

More clones rushed into the store, whipping the poor robot attendant into a greeting frenzy. A seemingly endless wave of Ectoplasms flooded the narrow aisles and barred their way out.

"Come, Arisato."

Minato didn't need a prompt. The moment he reached for his bokken, rage filled his being.

His was a existence consumed by wrath. As a dharmapala, anger fed his belief, fury became his weapon, and peace was forever out of reach; such was the life of a protector of the Buddhist dharma. It was not righteousness or justice that guided his path forward. Instead, it was a single-minded resolve to destroy whomever dared to stand against his makers.

 _Zouchouten._

He breathed deep. He breathed loud.

And moved.

A clone rushed him, face-on. Ectoplasm disguised a feint, his body ducked low, but dived forward with a side kick aimed at the outside of his thighs.

Minato braced himself for the lead-in, and closed the distance to limit the force behind the attack; he weathered through it with a pained grunt. Before Ectoplasm could even place himself level, Minato thrust his sword forward, the blunt tip finding home on Ectoplasm's unguarded chest.

The clone dispelled into a gooey mush.

"Behind you!"

Nezu had vacated his position on his shoulder and was now scurrying in between his legs, attempting to call the fight.

Minato took a heavy kick to the shoulder, forcing him back against a fixture filled with housing miscellanea and partly knocking it over. Scrambling to his feet, he evaded a swipe to his midsection and kicked at the opposite shelving with the full force behind his weight. In doing so, he cut off the opportunity for Ectoplasm's clones to rush in behind him.

"Excellent judge—!"

Minato despatched the clone before it could finish. More tried to swam him.

Minato brought his bokken up, his weapon held overhead as he parried an axe kick bearing down for his head. It almost forced him to his knees. Shifting slightly, he angled his bokken sideways, letting it run down the length of Ectoplasm's prosthetic leg and burying it into the clone's groin.

Collectively, the clones sucked in a breath, hissing.

Minato was undeterred.

As their exchanges grew longer, he found that there was a strange caveat to Ectoplasm's Quirk. Landing a hit wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, but having it be a disabling one was easier said than done given the man's combat prowess. Ectoplasm modelled his fighting style around speed and finesse, and his game plan was an obvious one.

Deny and swarm.

In such a confined space, especially given his use of a weapon, Minato knew he couldn't afford to keep this up. If there wasn't a way around Ectoplasm, then the obvious route was through him.

"Stick close," he said to Nezu. "Move with me."

And so he lost himself in battle; it was what Zouchouten knew best.

His stance, feet planted shoulder-width apart, was rigid. His strikes, knuckles white on the grip, were unyielding. Yet, in that cloudy haze, his anger flowed as he cleaved through clone after clone without reply.

Minato was afforded no rest, no reprieve, when they finally emerged from the convenience store. Ectoplasm didn't back off, but his tunnel vision of their ongoing fight made him miss the figure approaching them, surrounded as he was by the mass of clones. This time, the aroma of gooseberry and lilac, the undertone laced with a hint of spice, tickled his nostrils before he ever realised his mistake.

Complacency had crept in.

His nights scaling the winding floors of Tartarus had felt like lifetimes ago. Back then, he had the members of SEES to watch his back. Being caught off-guard had been a rare occurrence; even then, they had always pulled through with sheer numbers. Here, given how he was, he had to do better. Ectoplasm was right.

 _Adapt._

Always to adapt.

Even as he held his breath, draping his newly-minted scarf tight over the lower-half of his face, Minato could feel his eyelids begin to droop. Immediately, he felt his body slow; his movements clumsy and his reactions delayed. Fumbling, he shoved a clone aside, and barely had the time to destroy it before it dispelled on its own—no doubt affected by Kayama's Quirk.

More of the clones met the same fate, until it finally revealed his homeroom teacher, shrouded as she was in the vapours of her Quirk.

"Hello, my pretties~~" Kayama said, her voice saccharine.

He reached down for Nezu, who was strangely unaffected by the miasma, and scooped the rodent under his arm. On uneven feet, he made to run away, but a solid cement block rose up, reaching to almost three stories in height, to wall off his escape. There were more blocking his path, until it enclosed him completely on all sides.

Minato sunk to his knees, using his sword to keep him upright, and inhaled a shuddering breath.

"How long will you continue to hide it, Arisato-san?" Nezu asked, sighing. "This reticent not to use your Quirk, it is unbecoming."

He shut his eyes.

"Is this truly the extent of your resolve? If so, I have judged poorly."

In that all-encompassing darkness in which he was the centre, Minato had his head bowed, his grip on his sword slackening with each breath.

Beside him, basking in the light that shone directly above, the vengeful form of Zouchouten stood tall and mighty, ostensibly uncaring of his plight. His persona's gaze was resolute and far-seeing, staring into the inky darkness with narrowed eyes.

Forcibly, Zouchouten was banished into the sea of souls, disappearing in a glint of ethereal blue. Another persona sought entry—not at all benignant.

He could hear it strike the invisible walls of his subconscience, feel its searing heat lick his skin, and for once, peer beyond the darkness, at the large and impossible, otherworldly presence lurking just beyond.

His sight gave way to a void; a black well of nothingness tinged with a shade of dark red as if the fiery hell of sulphur and brimstone awaited at the other side. With it, eclipsing his vision, was a being born of fire and malevolence; a jötunn that once slumbered deep in the molten fires of Musphelheim—a guardian to a forgotten realm. Each time it bore its fists down upon the walls, lightning flashed, revealing its fearsome visage in its entirety.

 _Surt_.

There was but a single memory, bound together since time immemorial; it was of fire and agony. Tension grew in his temples, twisting his vision to the point that he saw white, but at all once, his exhaustion gave way to something else entirely.

The fire rose, almost as if it were alive, with Minato at the centre of it.

He could feel everything melt away and wash over him until a single emotion took a hold in his core. He stood up, his sword pointed at Surt, and mirrored the emotion of the being staring down at him.

Distantly, he heard the sounds of glass tinkling.

Glass did not shatter, however. It sounded rough, incomplete, straining to the point of breakage. Whereas once power flowed freely, it now seeped through the cracks, almost like a dam being fed through a tiny funnel. It came to him all the same. He allowed that power, less than what he remembered, to swirl within him and directed it down—towards his blade. His persona resisted, but he crushed its meagre resistance ruthlessly.

 _Laevateinn._

 _Brighter than any star._

 _Heavier than any moon._

 _The sword destined to bring about Ragnarok._

When his eyes snapped open, Minato beheld the ancient weapon in all its glory. Such was the intensity of the heat pouring from his weapon that the superheated air created distortions around the blade. The sweltering flames didn't hurt him, however; it felt warm, akin to an embrace that seeped into every fibre of his being. He couldn't say the same for Nezu.

When he breathed, the taste of sulphur, not gooseberries and lilac, lingered on his lips.

"You should step back," Minato said.

When Minato plunged Laevateinn into the cement block, the fiery sword found no resistance. He fashioned an exit, motioning with his head for Nezu to follow him.

"That was," Nezu began, coughing; the look on its face was unreadable, even as it followed at a distance, "quite interesting."

When they emerged from the confines of their concrete prison, Kayama was waiting for them, whip in hand. She quirked an eyebrow, eyeing his new-found weapon with mock surprise. "Some Quirk you got there, Arisato-kun. This must be one hell of a coincidence, huh?"

Minato regarded the woman for all but a moment, before he blinked and swayed lightly on his feet; the sudden rush of adrenaline that had coursed through his veins was draining away, all at once.

Once more, he could feel the effects of her sleeping gas start to overcome his senses. Laevateinn slipped from his slackened grip, the fervent warmth leaving him entirely as it did. Before it could touch the ground, the weapon disintegrated, baring motes of dust and ash to float upwards into the breeze.

Surt was no more.

Numbly, Minato reached for another persona straying in the periphery of his sea of souls. He did not need strength. He sought for a being that carried the nectar of gods, the fabled drink of devas; one that was said could cure ailments and transcend immortality.

 _Amri_ —

His homeroom teacher walked over and poked him on the chest. Predictably, he crumpled to the ground.

"Guess all that gas finally did its work," Kayama said. "You really toughed it out there; I'm seriously impressed you lasted so long. But then again… Adrenaline can only take you so far before your body eventually shuts down. You have my permission to rest, slave." She turned to the tiny form of Nezu. "As for you… Well, don't forget that I still get to kill you."

The last thing Minato remembered before his eyes fluttered to a close was Nezu's quiet plea of forgiveness.

* * *

0.0

* * *

Arisato Minato blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling.

It was dark out, that much he could tell, but the barest hint of light peeked through his curtains, giving him a cursory view of his new dorm room. It was spartan, with nothing but the furnishings the school had provided; he still had a few odds and ends that he wanted to bring over from his apartment.

Fumbling for his phone, he found a sticky note with his homeroom teacher's tidy penmanship scrawled across it.

 _'You were out cold._ _Nezu said you passed btw._ _Come downstairs._ _Party's started.'_

He got up from his bed and went through his unread messages, returning a few replies to both Yu and Momo. The most surprising was Nejire's, who had kindly included him in their class' group chat. She had sent pictures of her and their classmates grinning over an army of portable grills. There were more; dozens, in fact. In between texts, he went to his small en-suite bathroom to freshen up.

From the fifth floor, Minato made his way down to the common area, where the liveliness of the party bled through the walls.

The first one to notice him had been Mirio, dressed as his costumed alter ego. Given how late it was, Minato assumed that the taller teen had just returned from his internship duties. Mirio was being ably cheered on by the rest of the class as he cannoned in and out of the ground to chase after a floating piece of barbecued meat. With a flourish, he landed gracefully, his prize sunk in between his teeth.

"Minato-san," his voice was muffled as he chewed into the meat, "we thought you'd never wake up!" Mirio slung an arm over Minato's shoulder and pulled him towards the dining area. "Hope you're hungry! Kayama-sensei bought a ton of meat for the house warming party tonight." Mechanically, he brought his free arm up, squeezing his hand tight. "It's a legit… _fist!_ Get it?! _Feast?!_ "

"Stop being so corny, Togato!" someone shouted. "It's like literal nails on a chalkboard!"

Mirio was unperturbed. "That could have gone better," he said, his cherubic smile not wavering in the least. "Hey, everyone! Guess who finally decided to join the p-p-p-party!"

His presence sent another round of cheers around the room, with a healthy spattering of 'new guy', each with a different iteration, directed his way. He was then pushed him into an empty seat in front of their homeroom teacher. Kayama, dressed in simple casual wear, eyed him with thinly-veiled contempt. It wasn't an emotion he was expecting, but seeing that she was as flushed as a peach and swigging down a small cup of sake…

Well, it explained a lot.

"If it isn't the man of the hour," Kayama said, slurring. "You really conked out back there, Arisato-kun. Tired much?"

He nodded plainly, taking his seat at the table. The twins Eresa and Erise took the seats just beside them, both manning the portable grill with a kitchen tongs and chopsticks in hand. Yet again, the only way he was able to tell the two apart was the fact that they still wore their name tags—despite not being in uniform.

"How did I do?"

"It was a decent run. A solid 'B'; not enough for All Might to show up and do his villain bit, but decent still." At his questioning look, she explained, "They planned this whole thing of having him show up as a villain once you've hit the ten-minute mark. It's an easy way to cut draggy simulations; you were close though."

"I'll have to do better next time."

Kayama tilted her head back, and shouted suddenly, "Sake slave, refill!"

"C-Coming!"

From another table, Aragaki, a mousy boy that looked to be no older than thirteen, rushed over to their table. With jittery hands, Aragaki poured a serving into her small porcelain cup and stepped back, as if he were a server.

"How crude, sensei," Eresa said dryly.

"We expect nothing less from you."

"Don't sass me, meat slaves!" Kayama said with narrowed eyes, scowling at the twins. "He's the oldest out of the lot of you. You should be learning from his example."

The sisters turned to him saying:

"Sensei is an—"

"—angry drunk."

"D-Don't fight, please," Aragaki said. "I-I don't mind at all."

"See! This is how an assistant class representative should act! Don't be as brain dead as that one." Kayama motioned to Nejire, who was seated at another table. The girl in question was happily being fed by Yuyu and remained oblivious to her teacher's withering glare. "Girl probably has an invisible brain slug attached to her head."

"T-Test-wise, Hado-san is first in our class, Kayama-sensei."

She made a shooing motion with her hands at Aragaki. "You can go back to your dinner, Aragaki-kun. I'll call for you when I need you."

Hurriedly, the smaller boy nodded and rushed back to his table, one which included Mirio and Amajiki; the latter had his head bowed over the grill and was quietly cooking up a storm. As it was, the good-natured chatter of the tables surrounding him perked his ears. Minato looked at his own table and frowned.

"And you wonder why—"

"—you're still unmarr—"

"Finish that sentence," Kayama said, a hiccup escaping her lips. "And you two will be eating the rest of your dinner tonight through a straw."

"Speaking of dinner," Minato cut in.

He was none-too-subtly ignored in favour of their silent staring contest, but cuts of well-done beef was raised from the portable grill with a twitch of Eresa's finger, and pushed forward onto his plate, courtesy of Erise. It was an impressive display of precision and coordination; as one would come to expect from the Twisted Sisters.

Just as he split his chopsticks apart, a slender hand reached in from above his shoulder and stole a piece from his plate.

Nejire chewed with full cheeks. "It's not as nice as how Yuyu does it."

"Then stop stealing mine."

Nejire squeezed herself in between Minato and Erise, and planted herself on the edge of the table. "Ne, ne Arisato, Kayama-sensei told us about your fight today. Is it true? Is it true? Do you finally know what your Quirk is?" She whined mutely, saying, "She won't tell us what it is."

"Yes, it's true."

"Can you give us a demonstration~~?"

He looked down at his food, hoping she would get the significance; it didn't help that he hadn't eaten much for the entire day.

"After dinner maybe?"

"Bah!" someone shouted from the back. "We're asking to see your Quirk! Not your ass! Stop making us work for it and just show us already!"

Spiky black hair, tanned but not overtly so, Shougo Yano didn't so much as stand out of the crowd as he did blend right into one. The only thing that stood out were his eyes. When he blinked, his eyelids closed both vertically and horizontally, almost like a reptile.

Shougo stood up and chucked something at him.

It was an instinctive reaction as Minato held out his hand.

The being that came to the fore was a familiar one; a kindred spirit in all but name. Whereas other personas bled memories not of his own, the scenes that came to him were his. It was a life… lived, however short it was.

 _Orpheus._

His persona didn't manifest itself into the world, but he felt its presence, its power, coursing through his veins. Although, like with Surt, the power was distilled. Minato couldn't explain the half-state of his summoning, not entirely, especially in a world that existed outside the realm of the Dark Hour.

Was the presence of Death, a being formed from Nyx, residing within him, the key?

Evokers were a medium invented through the manipulation of the shattered fragments of Nyx's physical form. Once, he had always believed—been told, in fact—that they were part and parcel to summoning a persona. As he was now, acting as the literal bridge between his persona and this new reality, Minato had to wonder if that was entirely true.

When he had first arrived, stripped of his irreplaceable bonds and bereft of everything except the clothes on his back, he was impotent, even as the sea of souls laid dormant within him. As he grew into this world, so did his powers. It was limited, possibly because he was an incomplete vessel, but it was there for him—and he had an inkling as to why.

He couldn't help but smile as fire flowed through his fingertips.

It must have made for a strange thing to witness when he was caught smiling at the now burning piece of meat.

"That was—"

"—really creepy."

Even as the twins said it, their expressions sparkled with muted delight.

Nejire didn't say a word. She just leaned over the table and plucked a raw cut of beef with her chopsticks, holding it out to him.

"I am not a human campfire, Hado."

She visibly deflated.

"Endeavor's freaky love child more like!" someone yelled.

Kayama, who was leaning her chin on the palm of her hand, commented idly, "You know, fire-based Quirks aren't all that uncommon nowadays." She was still flushed, but seemed much more collected than before. "But I'm guessing your Quirk works along a different line? Especially with that flaming sword you sprung on us during your battle simulation?"

"It is a facet of my power," he explained. "You could call it a _Persona_."

There wasn't a need to lie about his abilities. The only reason why he had was his inability to manifest his personas, which was moot at this point. He didn't need to be seen as an enemy of his minders in UA; his conversation with Nezu was a stark admonition that he was apparently threading on a fine line.

Kayama raised an eyebrow. "Persona, huh? Is that what you're calling your Quirk? Well, I guess there's more to you than lets on?" She snorted lightly, adding, "It fits. What with your hero name and all…"

"What's his hero name?"

"It's—"

"Watch it, Ono!" Shougo shouted, standing to glare at a sweating, heavy-set teen; his skin was melting off his massive frame and caking goop all over the grill. "You're getting your pudding ass all over the food!"

 _"Sorree…"_

Sky blue eyes locked onto his, wide and unblinking. Kayama's explanation had pulled Nejire back into his orbit, and she wasn't about to pull away any time soon. "More~~?" she breathed, excited. "You can do _more_ ~~?"

Kayama cackled into her sake. "You look like a cornered rabbit!"

He leaned back in this seat unconsciously. In truth, it was hard not to feel like one.

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Mount Lady, please…"

"Hey! Woodsy!" Takeyama Yu half-hissed, sparing the female officer an apologetic look. "I won't go away just because you're ignoring me, you know?!"

It was late, just after midnight, when Yu was tipped off to the conclusion of a raid sanctioned by the National Police Agency's newest special task force. In a decisive show of strength, they had systematically brought down a suspected Trigger ring operating in the waterfront district of Kōtō ward. She didn't need to guess as to why there was a wider news coverage, with scores of different media outlets now reporting on scene.

Her fellow rookie stood just beyond the cordoned-off area, where a slew of officers stood in line behind the police barricade to ward off intruders and prying eyes—and her as well, it seemed. Nishiya had his back to her, head bowed and in hushed discussion with Wash.

Wash, of all people! Wash, the recluse using a hollowed-out washing machine as a costume! Wash, the top-tier Pro Hero who couldn't say anything except for his own name!

As it was, Yu attracted the attention of someone else entirely.

The woman was exotic; a beguiling kind of beauty that drew the eye. She had dark skin, and her long white hair, where two equally long fluffy ears peeked out, made her fiery red eyes stand out all the more. Ultimately, it was her skin-tight costume, a leotard that was just a cut below immodest, that gave Yu pause. The woman was shapely, toned—blessed with a physique that could have only been attained through discipline and sheer diligence.

Hell, she could probably crush steel girders between her thighs.

It wasn't hard to place who she was; well-regarded by the public, a seasoned veteran, undoubtedly one of the strongest female Pro Heroes in all of Japan.

The Rabbit Hero: Mirko.

"Oi!" Mirko called out to the female officer, waving her in. "She's with me! Let her in, will ya?"

Muttering a quick word of gratitude to the officer, Yu made her way over to Mirko, trying but failing to hide the wariness on her face; this was the first time she had even met the other woman.

Yu bowed stiffly to her senior. "Uhm, thanks for that."

"Eh, don't. Did it on a whim," Mirko said, not unkind, just aloof. "Mount Lady, right? I've seen you on the news cuz of that UA Festival bust-up; kinda hard not to what with your Quirk and all. 'sides, I'm real curious as to why you're nosing around here all of a sudden."

"I heard what went down. I wanted to see what I could do to help."

"That shit won't fly with a blind man, let alone me. Tell me the real reason why you're here, Mount La—" Shaking her head, Mirko said, "Your hero name's a handful. I ain't gonna bother saying it over and over again. So, _don't_ make me repeat myself, rookie."

Yu thinned her lips into a line. "If three syllables is too hard for you," she said, terse. "Shorten it, Mirko-senpai."

The other woman grinned, all teeth. "Well, somebody has a backbone. Mount, huh? Now lemme guess, it's part of your surname, isn't it? The kanji for 'yama' written as mountain? Mine's the same." She pointed at herself, thumbs held aloft. "Usagiyama Rumi. Call me whatever you want, but cut the senior-junior bullshit. I ain't one to stand at ceremony."

"Takeyama Yu," she said, nodding. "I appreciate it… Rumi."

"Great, now that we're best friends n' shit." Rumi motioned at the two of them, her eyes flat, as she growled, " _Dish._ "

" _Washer!_ "

"Piss off, Wash!"

Rumi tried to swat a gloved hand at Wash, who responded by retracting his limbs back into his hollow washing machine-like shell. Her misguided attack found nothing but empty air as Wash's turtled form clattered to the ground before her.

" _Wash?!_ " the voice echoing from within was muffled, but the confusion in his voice was unmistakable.

Yu hid a scowl as Nishiya came over to greet them. "Mount Lady, Mirko-san," he said. "We should be mindful of the cameras."

Nishiya crowded them towards a more secluded corner, away from the media crew, and coincidentally where Best Jeanist was. The 'No. 4' Pro Hero was quietly conversing with a small group of non-uniformed officers, with Detective Kaneko, apparently still a junior member, standing near the fringe with his head bowed.

Kaneko saw them—her—first.

"Ta—Mount Lady," he corrected himself mid-speech. "What are you doing here?"

"I vouched for her," Rumi answered, shrugging. "Noticed she was hanging around the scene even before all those news people started arriving. I figured she had something interesting to share."

While Yu wasn't one to be shy, it did unnerve her to be thrust into the spotlight, especially given the circumstances. She wasn't a part of their operation. It didn't leave the best impression of her on her peers; there was nothing like someone else coming in half-way and thinking that they could do better.

"Was there," she started, drawing out her words carefully, "a problem with tonight's operation?"

Rumi scoffed. "Not unless you count us seizing a container's worth of penis-enhancement drugs," she said, grinning wildly. "I won't be the only one not seeing any action tonight."

"Mirko…"

"Don't give me that look, Jeanist. I'm bored out of my mind! We've been standing around for God knows how long waiting for everyone to clean up shop!" Rumi looked towards the group of officers. "Just get on with the debriefing so we can scamper off already."

Best Jeanist pressed a hand over the bridge of his nose. "And how did you come into this knowledge, Mount Lady?"

"About three weeks ago, I was following up on a lead—Ryuuji Jin," Yu explained. "He's a mid-level money launderer; owns a string of pachinko parlours up and down Tokyo. From what I hear, he has pretty deep ties with some movers and shakers in the underworld. I uh, got a little creative and managed to clone his phone without his knowledge."

She gestured with her burner phone.

"So on and off, I've been monitoring their communications. Tried, at least. Their messages were in short hand, and I haven't been able to crack their lingo. Thing is that today… there was more chatter in the last two hours than there have been in the last three weeks."

"They caught wind of our operation?" Kaneko asked.

"I can't say for sure," Yu said. "There weren't any addresses or building names. They communicated the location with actual coordinates—said something about a potential 'stock take' and to 'prop up the display furniture'. It's easy to understand the gist of it, but the specifics are harder to nail down."

One of Kaneko colleagues, an older man with authority, stepped forward. He had thin grey hair and sharp narrow eyes. When he spoke, it was in a deep monotone voice, "Chief Inspector Taro—I've been tasked to head the Trigger Special Task Force. We will need that phone." There was no pretense to his demand. "And whatever information you've managed to collect thus far."

Her grip on the phone tightened. "Sir, I want to be included in the investigation."

"We appreciate your effort in the matter, Mount Lady." Taro's features were stern, unmoving; it was as if his face had been carved from granite. "Make no mistake, if the situation were not so… untenable, we could have reached an adequate compromise. As it stands now, I cannot concede to your request."

Rumi huffed. "'the hell is that double-speak supposed to mean?"

Taro shared a look with Best Jeanist, who sighed. "The current political climate is volatile," Best Jeanist said. "I'm sure you've all heard of 'Trigger Enforcement Act' legislation being passed in the National Diet. Greater powers have been afforded to the NPA in an effort to combat this epidemic. Our presence here is at their invitation; we cannot be seen circumventing that authority."

Taro continued, "And a Pro Hero performing an unsanctioned act of surveillance on a private citizen… This could be construed as that."

"It wasn't unsanctioned," Yu argued. "I raised my actions up to despatch. Hell, even All Might was there—towards the end. If no one bothered to follow up with me after I made my report, then that's not on me, is it?"

The man hardly twitched. "Investigations into criminal elements fall under our jurisdiction. We did not sign off on your probe into this… Ryuuji Jin. You took it upon yourself to monitor this individual and merely reported your actions after the fact. Therefore, it is unsanctioned."

Taro motioned for one of his detectives. A nondescript man came up to her, head bowed, as he silently requested for the phone. Peeved, Yu slapped the phone down onto his open palm, with a little more force than necessary.

"That concludes the end of tonight's operation. We thank you for your endeavour and patience, Pro Heroes," Taro said, bowing low at the waist. "Mount Lady, a meeting will be arranged to discuss your handover. One of my detectives will be in touch."

With that, Taro left, together with the rest of his associates; Kaneko surreptitiously gave her an apologetic nod before going after his superiors.

"This is," Yu started, teeth gnashed together, "fucking—"

 _"Washer!"_

"I understand your frustrations, Mount Lady," Nishiya said. "Tonight has not been a fruitful night for us either. I did not expect my first raid to be so anti-climatic."

Rumi smirked, asking, "It's a tough break, ain't it?" Her red eyes narrowed, growing a touch feral. "But what the fuck are you gonna do about it? You gonna roll over and play nice, or are—"

"May I suggest," Best Jeanist cut in, "that we do not antagonise our police counterpart? We are working towards a common goal—to eradicate this Trigger syndicate."

"Did anyone tell them that?!"

Best Jeanist sighed, saying to Yu, "We stand before a crossroad." A lone eye, the only one visible beneath his combed down fringe, glanced upwards. "The villains seek to divide us, but the onus lies with us on how we respond. Will we continue to engender that rift and further alienate our allies, or do we find a middle-ground and compromise so that we can move forward?"

"Sounds a lot like rolling over there, bub," Rumi said, nonchalant.

Best Jeanist eyed her coolly. "We should all retire for the night; only bad decisions await us should we continue. It has been a pleasure to meet and work with all of you. It is my hope that we can work together again under better circumstances."

Without much fanfare, the 'No. 4' Pro Hero left. Wash and Nishiya did the same, exchanging curt farewells—for Nishiya at least—as they did.

It left only Yu and Rumi alone.

"This is why I hate these placements from the Commission." Rumi held her arms behind her head, walking ahead. "There's always a pacifist who thinks that holding hands will magically make things better." She paused in her steps, glancing at Yu out of the corner of her eyes. "By the way, you never answered my question."

"I didn't?"

"It wasn't rhetorical, ya bimbo," she said, rolling her eyes, "when I asked: 'what the fuck are you gonna do about it?'."

Yu wasn't sure if it was false bravado to impress the woman before her, or simply her tired mind, but as that one simple truth left her lips, she found herself standing straighter, fists clenched tight:

"I'll do what I have to."

Rumi smirked. "You're not as hopeless as you look, Mount. Maybe you're not such a lost cause, after all."

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Knight of Wands…_

* * *

 _ **Side Note(s):** I've migrated over to Spacebattles. Updates will still be cross-posted between the two sites, but if you want a bigger hand in trying to shape the story, come over and say hey. There are additional side-stories that __help to flesh out the world and side characters.  
_

 _Regardless, feedback and comments are always appreciated._

* * *

 ** _ _Extra (A): And so, Aizawa Shota agrees to let his student have his cake…__**

* * *

Aizawa Shota palmed his hand over his face, slowly bringing it down to massage the bridge of his nose. Before him, seated at seiza on the floor, was his errant student—well, one of them anyway. "Let me get this straight, Mineta," Aizawa said slowly. "Despite receiving zero nominations during the Sports Festival, you've went out of your way not to reach out to the forty or so participating agencies we've short-listed, but instead chose to search for your own?"

"Sensei, none of those agencies related the kind of experience I wanted to have for my internship. Given the specialisation of their agencies and the difference in synergy between our Quirks, I came to the conclusion that—"

Aizawa slapped down one of the applications Mineta had sent out, intoning blankly:

"Mount Lady."

And another.

"Mirko."

And another.

"Ryukyu."

And another.

"Uwabami."

And another.

"And the Wild, Wild Pussycats."

Mineta ducked his head down, shakily bringing his arm aloft. "P-Plus Ultra?"

Kayama whistled from her desk, saying, "You're a regular ol' horndog, aren't you kid?"

Inui snorted, standing so sharply that he knocked back his chair. He angled his face up, his nose held high, as if he was tasting the air. "My name!" he barked gruffly. "Did someone say my name?!"

"I said horndog, Inui! Not Hound Dog!"

The man shook in place. "Grrg—Enunciate, Kayama! You must—grghh enunciate!"

"I don't think you understand just how serious this is, Mineta." Against the backdrop of the now squabbling pair, Aizawa turned to Ectoplasm, hidden behind a copy of today's newspaper, asking, "Do you think he's taking this learning opportunity for granted?"

Ectoplasm didn't break stride. "I do believe so, Aizawa."

"W-What are you gonna do to me, sensei?"

"Me?" Aizawa grinned viciously, saying, "I'm not going to do anything to you, Mineta. In fact, I asked you here to share some good news. The Wild, Wild Pussycats have approved your application."

"What?!" Mineta exclaimed, standing. "Seriously?! That's frigging awesome!"

"Oh yes… Although the only problem is that most of their team are on break right now, so that means that Pixie-Bob, Mandalay, and Ragdoll," Aizawa ticked off their names with a finger to which his student flinched each time he did so, "won't be around for your internship. It's a shame, isn't it Ectoplasm?"

"A damn shame, Aizawa."

To his student's growing confusion, he said, "Tiger, however, is more than happy to take you in. He was so moved by your admiration for their team that he's decided to forego his vacation days to help you with your internship. Isn't that great, Ectoplasm?"

"Just great, Aizawa."

"W-Wait!" Mineta stammered. "That's not what—"

Aizawa cut him off, "You should jump at the chance, Mineta. This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. After all, if you should refuse… I'm not quite sure how you'll take to the alternative. Isn't that right, Ectoplasm?"

Ectoplasm lowered the newspaper in his hands, looking at Mineta fully with a wide, unsettling smile.

"You'd best start praying, boy…"


	7. VII

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _It's been exactly a year since I published this story. Here's to a milestone that I'd never thought I'd see again._

* * *

0.0

* * *

Living in a dormitory was a return to routine for Arisato Minato. While living on his own had allowed him more personal freedom and convenience, he missed the sense of kinship that came with living with a group of his peers.

As he made his way down to the common area, he was surprised to find most of his classmates crowded before the television. That, in itself, wasn't the strange part; it was the unearthly silence that permeated as they watched the morning news segment.

"Did something happen?" he asked the person closest to him.

Amajiki gave him a sidelong glance before answering grimly, "It's Stain... The police found Pinch Hitter dead—his body abandoned in some random alley."

Minato shook his head in reply, and for once, the other teen didn't look quite so panic-stricken. Belatedly, he realised this was the first time he had even tried to strike up a conversation with Amajiki.

Mirio was seated on the couch before them. "It took them almost a week to find his body after he was reported missing." His face tightened, oval-shaped eyes narrowing at the television screen. "That kind of cruelty… No one deserves that, least of all, someone who has dedicated his life to heroism."

To his left, Shougo leaned against an armrest, his posture languid. "Yeah, but this dude's only been active for like what?" he asked. "Less than a few months? And he's already killed nineteen pros so far?"

"Eighteen," Amajiki corrected. "Ingenium pulled through."

"Not to mention he's ended the careers of so many other prominent Pro Heroes," Mirio said. "First Ingenium then Pinch Hitter… Sir Nighteye was saying that Tokyo is practically on lockdown because of this."

Aragaki was fretting where he stood, stealing nervous glances around the room. "I-I guess that means we could be next…"

Minato could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence.

For the other seniors, their responsibilities in their agencies were just shy of an actual sidekick, but the dangers were ever present. That was why he didn't have to ask about the two empty seats in a classroom of twenty students. Heroism was a dangerous profession, and people rarely remembered those who fell short of the mark—either forcibly or not.

He understood that much.

He couldn't say the same for Nejire.

The girl was standing behind an armchair Yuyu was seated on, casually brushing the other girl's hair with her fingers. "Ehhh~~ Do you think this will affect the school's internship this week?" The ease in which she defused a potential landmine was masterful in its own way; Minato wasn't sure if it was intentional on her part. "Ryukyu said she nominated one of the first years. I was so excited too…"

Mirio slapped his hands together, grinning. "No one caught Sir's eye this year. Then again, considering what happened during the Sports Festival…" His smile dimmed just a fraction, and he quickly turned to Amajiki. "Did Fat Gum nominate anyone, Tamaki?"

"Even if he did," Amajiki said, regaining some of his natural-born gloom, "I'm sure no one would accept. Who else is willing to travel all the way down to Osaka and back like I do?"

"Don't see it that way!" Mirio cheered. "Fat Gum is one of the nation's top Pro Heroes. I'm sure whomever he nominates will jump at the chance, right Minato-san?"

"Do you really have to travel like that?"

"Every… two… weeks…"

Mirio winced. "Some of us are interning at agencies outside of Tokyo. For them, UA has this policy where students on field assignment have to rotate two weeks on and two weeks off for their studies."

"I admire your dedication, Amajiki-san," Minato told him as much.

"That's what I've been saying this whole time!" Mirio reached over the couch and slung an arm over his friend's neck, pulling him into an odd-sort of hug. "Plus that all that hard work is going to pay off when Tamaki becomes one of the top-ranked Pro Heroes out there!"

Amajiki was side-eyeing the nearest wall, but was ultimately forced to suffer the torment of being praised, with Mirio holding him back—quite literally.

"How about you, Minato-san?" Mirio asked. "You're interning under Mount Lady, right? Is she planning to bring anyone else in?"

Like a precursor to the inevitable, Mirio's words coincided with his phone vibrating in his pocket. Wordlessly, with a sense of trepidation, he wrestled it out to find _'My Hot Boss'_ emblazoned across his screen; he really should do something about that name.

Minato briefly spared Mirio a look, half-paranoid that he could see into the future, before excusing himself to a quiet corner of the room to take the call.

" _imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry…_ "

"Did you burn down the apartment?"

"What?! We don't meet for one weekend and you think I burned down the apartment?" Yu asked, aghast. "I can't sense your special kind of sarcasm over the phone, Minato. Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yes."

"Apartment's fine, dummy," she intoned lazily. "Anyway, that's not the point. I have a teensy favour to ask. I lost track of a few things—a few _important_ things." Her laughter, weak as it was, trailed off.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Before you get mad, I want you to know that it was the right thing to do."

"Yu…"

"One of your juniors from UA submitted an application to the agency, and well… I accepted," Minato swore he could hear her wince over the call, " I didn't nominate anyone, I swear! I would have ignored it, but this girl tacked on an essay about how she wanted to learn from one of the best transformation-type Pro Heroes in Tokyo. I mean, I couldn't say no to a hero-in-training that wants to better herself, amirite?"

"She played to your ego," Minato said.

"That's beside the point."

Distantly, he was aware that the doorbell to their dorm was ringing. He moved into the dining area for privacy. "I would have preferred some notice," he relented, "but it's fine."

"I was gonna tell you, but then you sprung the apartment on me, and I got distracted with work n' stuff, and then I kinda spent the weekend shopping online here and there…"

"You forgot."

"I did," Yu said, without preamble. "I totally did."

Minato sighed into the phone. "What is it that you need?"

"I got called into the NPA Headquarters today—like right now actually. They want me to handover an investigation I was doing on the side. But that kinda means that I won't be able to meet this new intern. She's supposed to come over to the office in the morning."

"So you need me to babysit?"

"Yes, please," Yu pleaded with a whisper. "I already asked her to look for you. If it helps, she looked super cute in her application p—"

"Arisato~~"

Minato looked up briefly to find an unfortunate soul trapped in the clutches of his class representative. The younger girl, with spiky orange hair pulled into a side ponytail, had misty blue eyes that practically radiated her distress. She still smiled, albeit a touch uneasy, as she bore the brunt of Nejire's affection-slash-attention.

"She showed up at the door asking for you." Nejire stood on the balls of her feet, smushing her cheek against the top of the girl's head. "Itsuka-chan! Itsuka-chan! Ne, ne, show him your Quirk! Did you know she calls it 'Big Fist'?"

The girl bowed, as much as she could with the Nejire still clinging onto her. "Y-Yo, Arisato-senpai," she said. "Mount Lady asked me to look for you? I'm her new intern, Kendo Itsuka."

Itsuka looked at him nervously, then at her human backpack. "Could you help me out, senpai?"

* * *

0.0

* * *

Takeyama Yu eyed the yellow-stained walls with distaste.

A smoking room in a far flung corner of the National Police Agency Headquarters wasn't exactly what she had in mind when Kaneko pulled her aside to ask for a meeting; he even dangled the carrot of introducing a new contact to her.

Although, it was unfortunate that both of them were heavy smokers.

She coughed lightly, waving away the deadly haze as the two men lighted up. "Five minutes. I'm not staying in this death trap of a room any longer than I have to."

"Live a little, will you?" Kaneko asked.

Kaneko's companion, Mera Yokumiru, was a middle-aged man with gaunt, angular features. His eyes, beady and red-rimmed, had noticeable bags that made him look like a walking zombie—a dishevelled one, given the state of his hair and attire.

The mid-level bureaucrat from the Public Safety Commission took a deep puff of his cigarette and chuckled mirthlessly. "Kaneko and I are firm believers of 'what doesn't kill you will only make you stronger'."

"Yeah," she said. "Whoever thought of it must be a real genius. Look, Kaneko… What's with this hush-hush meeting suddenly?"

Kaneko sighed. "The way I see it, it wasn't right the way you were treated you that night. Figured if no one from my side was gonna give you an official apology, an unofficial one, from a friendly face at least, would work all the same."

"I don't blame you, Kaneko."

"Yeah, never thought you did, but given the circumstance, you had a right to. The last time we met, you were telling me about that lead that you had, remember? I brushed you off. Maybe if I'd listen, the operation could have turned out differently. I was stubborn, acting like some prickly persian. That's on me, Takeyama."

Yu nodded, but didn't say a word.

For once, being in the right didn't feel as great—not when it meant being brought back to square one. Her meeting regarding the handover of information was less contentious without the presence of Chief Inspector Taro, but the detective-in-charge, a consummate professional, had been thorough in his work.

It was coming close to evening by the time they were done.

"I'm running late as it is," Yu said, pointedly checking the time on her phone. "I gotta go. Kaneko." Yu stood up and bowed to the other man. "Mera-san, it was nice to meet you. Maybe next time, we could—"

"Your agency hasn't hired a permanent sidekick, am I right?" Mera asked suddenly. "A temp? One from UA?"

"Yeah." She raised a delicate brow. "Why does it matter?"

Mera rubbed the back of his neck and stared up at the ceiling, muttering, "I just came out of a very unproductive meeting with both sides of the aisle. Between the Trigger epidemic, Stain and an actual cabal of villains, we're effectively fighting three different types of war on three fronts."

"What's this gotta do with me?"

"I'm just a mid-level lackey openly complaining about the new workload he has to take on." Mera stared at her from the corner of his eyes. "Did you hear about Pinch Hitter, Takeyama?"

"Yeah… I didn't know him personally, but it's messed up." Yu sat back down in her seat, wary. "Hell, I could say the same for any of the pros that crossed that psycho."

"Do you know why it took so long to find Pinch Hitter's body?"

"He normally operates out in Chiba, right?" she asked, hesitant. "And they found his body here? In Tokyo?"

Mera nodded slowly. "We're noticing a pattern. Pinch Hitter was the first real lead we had in narrowing Stain's behaviour profile because he went outside his jurisdiction. Of the forty or so incidents, we've attributed ten deaths to Pro Heroes actively hunting Stain—most of their activities undocumented."

"Great," Yu muttered. "So a killer sociopath has a creed; he only kills pros that he thinks are glory hunters. How does that help anything?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Yu saw the way Kaneko's tail wag and twitch. The cat was nibbling his paw, his forehead furrowed in concentration.

"Cast a smaller net," Kaneko said. "That's the plan, isn't it? Pull him to where you want him to be. Find a Pro Hero he couldn't possibly resist and ambush him?"

Yu's heart stilled in her chest. "You want me to be the bait?"

"Nothing of the sort," Mera said, scoffing. "I don't have that kind of authority in the first place. The higher ups want Endeavor for the role and he's already agreed to it. What _I_ need is to finalise a roster of pros willing to work the graveyard shift. That's why I asked about what kind of support personnel you had; it might help mitigate your workload."

"Oh? That's it? You want me to work nights instead?" Yu blinked, adding, "You were kinda building up to something a little more serious there."

"Asking Pro Heroes to do a thankless job where nobody will ever see 'em?" Mera guffawed. "It's like asking a university professor to teach elementary school. I've learned the art of balancing those fragile egos, kiddo."

"You're a cheery guy, aren't you?"

"Meh, it's not like I'm asking you without reason. We need a massive show of force; one that will go in some way to help reassure the public. And…" Mera dithered, thinning his lips into a line.

"And what?"

"Direction from up top," Mera continued, "is that we need Stain to eliminate certain high-value wards. We're pulling more Pro Heroes from nearby prefectures to bolster the ranks. Their plan is to crowd out the whole of Tokyo and push him to where we want him to be—where Endeavour will be waiting."

Kaneko shook his head. "Singling out one ward out to the wolves, huh? That's risky. They say which ward it was exactly?"

"Can't say. It's confidential." Mera turned to Yu. "Takeyama, you got a good track record for a rookie, barring that one infraction recently." He nodded tellingly towards Kaneko. "Would you consider coming onboard as as a liaison in the Hero Killer investigation? It'd get you closer to the case and you could put your ear to the ground for anything more."

"What's the catch?"

"The work is shit. The hours are shit. The pay-off is shit." Mera paused. "Oh, and I need you to start tonight."

"Is this really how you balance fragile egos?" she asked.

"It's very nuanced."

"Fine, I'll do it. I wanna do whatever I can to help put down this psycho." Yu looked at Kaneko, murmuring, "Besides, it's not like I'm working on anything _else_ at the moment."

The cat's ears twitched. "I'm still a rookie detective, Takeyama. Nobody important on the task force will listen to a junior member like me."

"Of course they won't—since they got their heads stuck up their asses."

Kaneko chuckled uneasily. "Even so, I'll try to do right by you." At her questioning look, he answered, "I'm not stupid. I know you won't stop with your little crusade. Just come to me first, all right? I'll back you up when I can—within reason, of course."

"Yeah, sure," Yu said, sparing Mera a glance. "Maybe not the best place to talk about this."

Mera was humming quietly to himself. "Oh, please don't mind me. I'm just here for my smoke break; not to listen to potentially illicit activities between a Pro Hero and an officer of the law."

"Ever the realist, aren't you?" Kaneko remarked.

"I'm not sure what you mean. I was distracted by my own humming."

"Right, this has all been very enlightening," Yu said, standing. "As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I really have to run. You know, Pro Hero stuff—impressionable minds to mould, indomitable hearts to conquer, and all that."

Kaneko was nonplussed, but let a small grin slip across his lips. "Weren't you yapping about needing to pick up some kind of present?"

"It's along the way!"

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Sorry, senpai," Itsuka said. "I'm bothering you, aren't I?"

Arisato Minato looked up from his work terminal, a clunky old desktop Yu had provided for him. He was finalising a summary report of Yu's activities for the first half of last week. It figured that heroism had its fair share of bureaucracy, with an ungodly amount of paperwork and reports to submit. Still, it was an easy routine task which helped to wile away the hours and alleviate boredom.

He couldn't say the same for his fellow intern seated across him.

Her hands ballooned to encapsulate half the ceiling and returned to its original size. She did this ad nauseam, but varied the scope of her exercise—speed, size, and a combination of both. It was fascinating to watch the first few times, but he had relegated it as a white noise in the background not long after.

"You're training your Quirk," he said, not unkindly. "It's fine. I can see why you decided to come here."

Itsuka scratched her temples. "Yeah, I was really happy when Mount Lady accepted my application. I only had one other concrete nomination, but I just thought I'd try my luck. Seeing Mount Lady during the Sports Festival really clinched it for me; I knew I wanted to come and intern for her agency."

"I'm glad it worked out."

"Can I ask you something, senpai?" She inched closer to him, looking embarrassed, as she whispered, "Is it normally this… slow? I know Mount Lady got called away for a big meeting, but I was kind of expecting not being cooped up in an office all day."

"We'd go out and eat once in a while."

"N-Not like that," Itsuka stammered. "I mean, proper hero work—going on patrols, catching villains, and…" she paused, blinking at him, "Arisato-senpai, aren't you in your third year of heroics? Wouldn't you have gone through all of this before?"

Minato unconsciously made a sound in the back of his throat. "You would know more than I do," he admitted. "I only transferred in last week."

Itsuka sat back in her chair, dazed. "You're the guy everyone's been talking about; the one who transferred to heroics without a Quirk." She made a face, asking, "That can't be true, right? I mean, the school went out of its way to accommodate your transfer during the semester. They wouldn't do something like that unless they had a good reason for it."

With a wordless sigh, Minato held his palm out and reached into his sea of souls.

A crackle of electricity sparked from his fingertips the moment he felt a persona settle into his being. The energy snaked and meandered, zapping nearby surfaces; he pulled his hand away when it sparked at his monitor.

Itsuka smiled, embarrassed. "The rumours did sound kind of stupid now that I think about it."

"It's complica—"

The door to the office was shut close, the lock resounding with a small clatter. Minato turned around, to find Yu standing in the doorway, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. Squeezed in the crook of her arm was a small potted plant.

"I guess you forgot to tell me a few things yourself, huh?"

Minato regarded the electricity pooling in his hand and back at her. He promptly clenched it into a fist, letting the energy dissipate. "Moving into the dorm took the whole weekend," he said, by way of an explanation. "What's with the plant?"

"It _was_ supposed to be your house warming gift," Yu brought the potted plant up to her eye level, as she tried to burn a hole in the stem with her eyes, "but I'm trying to decide if I'm petty enough to not give it to you. You know, for not telling me something so important, like I dunno… finally being able to use your Quirk?"

"I forgot."

She looked at him blankly then said to the plant, "Guess you're staying with me for a bit until Minato learns to share stuff about his life."

Minato rolled his eyes at Yu and subtly hinted to his underclassman. Itsuka had rocketed up from her seat the moment Yu entered the office. Instead of being able to greet the older woman, she fidgeted in place.

"Welcome to the agency, Itsuka," Yu said, smiling. "Sorry I couldn't get away today. Has Minato been treating you right? You can tell me if he hasn't. I can bash his stupid lying face in and—"

Itsuka frantically shook her head.

"It's no trouble, ma'am. And senpai's been really nice to me; he even treated me to lunch," she said, all the while laughing weakly. "I can see that the two of you have some things to work out. I really shouldn't impose…"

Minato pulled Itsuka back by her shoulder and gestured to the sofa. "You, sit," he told her. "And you," he walked over to Yu to relieve her of his new plant, "be nice."

Yu stuck her tongue out, dumping the plant into his awaiting hands, and brushed past him. She took the seat across from Itsuka and began her introduction in earnest.

Minato returned to his desk and resumed his unfinished report, all the while keeping an ear over their conversation. There was a quality to Yu that he had never quite noticed until he watched her interact with his underclassman. She had a certain way with words that wasn't immediately apparent; it showed in the way the tenseness in Itsuka's posture melt as the older woman went through the scope of her internship.

"I know it's your first time, so if you're ever unsure about anything, don't be afraid to come to me and ask," Yu told her. "If anything else, there's always the backstabbing liar over there."

A natural wordsmith, for sure.

The wariness crept back into Itsuka's face. "I understand, ma'am."

Yu waved her hand glibly. "None of that please. We're a progressive agency. I don't want us to get hung up on rank or formality. When I'm not in costume, just call me Yu, okay?"

"Got it, Yu," Itsuka said uncertainly, as if she were testing out the name. "And again, I really wanted to thank you for accepting my application. I know there must have been so many other qualified candidates, but I'll prove to you and senpai that I have what it takes to work in your agency."

"You're in this agency to learn first and foremost, so don't stress yourself out about having to prove yourself." Yu reached over and patted the girl on her knee. "I know you'll be a great fit here, Itsuka. Trust me, I have a good eye."

"Thank you!" Itsuka brightened at the praise, sitting straighter in her seat. "So… what do we do now?"

Minato spared a glance at his watch and spoke up, "How about dinner?"

"Nuts, I didn't know it was that late already." Yu shook her head, pressing her palms to her cheeks, and made a show of mulling her decision. "Itsuka did just join us, so I guess we should have a small celebration. It'll have to be a fast one. My patrol is about to start soon."

"Oh," Itsuka muttered. "I didn't know Pro Heroes had to work nights."

"Yeah, it's never in the brochures, is it?" Yu smiled, a touch chagrin. "Don't worry too much. It's not as common as you'd think; there's normally a select few pros that hoard all the night-time patrols to themselves."

"Is this about Stain?" Minato asked.

"Pretty much… Tokyo's a little stir-crazy right now, so it's all hands on deck at the moment." Yu clinched her forehead, adding quietly, "Just the right time for me to take you two out on a patrol, to be honest. I'll see when I can squeeze in an afternoon." She leaned back into the couch, head dangling over the backrest, and stretched in place. "My schedule might be a little tight, especially in the next two weeks."

"Tell me later. I'll note it down in your calendar."

Yu grinned at him. "You're the best, Minato," she said. "How much longer do you need? I got another two hours before my shift starts."

"I'll be done in five."

Itsuka shuffled out of her seat, saying sheepishly, "That gives me time to use the restroom then. Excuse me…"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yu approach his workstation just as Itsuka left the room. She idled by his desk, picking out a pen from his bundle of stationery, and twirled it between her fingers. "So… we gonna talk about how you can suddenly use your funky mind summoning Quirk, or do I have to do the whole meaningless chit-chat first?"

"It's called a Persona, Yu," he corrected her, without thought. "And I'm not sure how I got it back. It's strange. My power, it's there, but it's not how I remembered it—different, less than what it had been."

"But you're getting better?" At his hesitant nod, she continued, "So that thing that you said you needed, some medium thing or whatever, you found it?"

Minato paused, staring up at her fully. "I think… I did."

"Is it me?"

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

She tilted her head to one side, cheshire smile widening. "You got quiet all of a sudden and had this weird look on your face. Plus, you gave that bullshit answer—like you think you're in some cheesy drama and what you needed was my love all along."

"I'm working," he said, turning back to the screen. "The sooner I finish, the sooner we get to eat."

"Mi-Minato, you stupid tsundere!" Yu burst out laughing, face frozen in apparent delight. The woman didn't hold back, her mirth spilling in snorts and wheezes despite her attempts to muffle it behind her hand. "Oh my gawd! Stop looking at me like that! I can't take it!"

"Hn."

"Aww, don't be like that~~" she cooed. "Come gimme a hug~~" Yu pawed at him, trying to snuggle into the crook of his neck, but Minato held her back at arm's length.

The door to their office opened.

"Hey, so what's with the restroom here? Why is there an 'out-of-order' sign on the—?" Itsuka's smile died in her mouth, as did her words, when she took in the scene of Yu half-straddling him on his chair. She forcefully slammed the door shut behind her.

"Itsuka, be careful with the door," Yu called out, wincing. She then added quietly, "It's probably the most expensive thing in this office."

He could see Itsuka, back pressed against the frosted glass panel, her voice muffled as it carried through, "S-Sorry! I'll just wait outside! By the cram school! I really didn't see anything!"

The older woman looked down at him, askance. "She knows she left her bag here, right?"

"Yu, get off me…"

* * *

0.0

* * *

Humming quietly to herself, Hachisuka Kuin trailed a finger down the border of the display rack. She plucked out a pair of sunglasses from its slot, and placed it over her eyes, leaning back to catch her reflection in the small rectangular mirror.

Kuin clucked her tongue.

It didn't match the shape of her face.

She proceeded to dump the pair back into its slot and swivelled the rack in its place, repeating the process.

The thing about trying to be inconspicuous was the ability to hide in plain sight. Objectively, she was cute, but save for the large medical eye patch that she was forced to wear over her left eye, she rarely stood out.

Despite what others believed, it was never a fashion choice.

Brushing her fringe aside, Kuin examined herself in the mirror, dabbing a finger at the swollen lump that was her eye. Her hive reacted to her touch, their movements rippling the skin of her eyelid.

As their queen, she was more than a host for the swarm of bees that inhabited her body. They fed from her, bred inside her. Because of it, every single worker bee that subsisted on her flesh fell under her thrall. It was, at its core, mutualism in action, but it soon went beyond that.

Emotions bled through. Pain shuttered between them. A limited awareness was shared.

In the end, they had become as much a part of her as she to them. Their symbiosis had evolved into a codependency for survival; one could not live without the other.

"Could I help you with something, miss?"

Kuin smoothed her fringe back over her eye, and said to the attendant, "I'm just browsing." She reached for another pair, her fingers clasping around a thin round metal frame. The lenses were large enough to hide parts of the swollen bump not covered by her fringe.

Her phone vibrated in her hand.

 ** _+81 3-5927-9290:_** _Kugutsu Mario_

 _ ** _+81 3-5927-9290:_** Trigger dealer based in Osaka. __Dropped contact last month. Surfaced in Tokyo yesterday._ _Suspected to be aligned with another entity._

 _ ** _+81 3-5927-9290:_**_ _Fact-finding. Eliminate once done._

 ** _Me:_** _(peace sign)_

Kuin smiled appreciatively at her reflection and turned to the attendant.

"Actually, do you have this in red?"

* * *

0.0

* * *

Takeyama Yu stifled a yawn.

Tired was an understatement at this point. After a hearty celebratory dinner with Minato and Itsuka, all she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Maybe stuffing herself for dinner, having went the whole day without, was a poor decision in hindsight. Unhealthy eating habits aside, it didn't help her already sour mood to face down someone equally irritable.

"A what?" the officer asked.

Yu swallowed her frustration and smiled politely. "A liaison," she repeated. "For the Hero Killer investigation. I was asked to report to the Akasaka met-station and speak to the on-duty inspector."

"Well," the man, portly and middle-aged, said. "I'm the on-duty sergeant, and Inspector Itoh never mentioned anything about a Pro Hero coming in. Are you sure they asked you to come here? It's mainly just Snatch that handles the patrols here in Akasaka."

"Quite sure. Could you please tell Inspector Itoh that I'm here to see him, sergeant?"

The man turned in his seat, looking around. "He's not at his desk; that much I can tell you. You mind waiting a bit? He may have stepped outside for a break. There's a reception room around the corner. You can—"

"Mount Lady?"

Yu spied another man approaching from down a corridor. He was younger, closer to her age, with neat well-kept black hair and defined features. Even from afar, there was no hiding that physique beneath his pressed uniform.

Ugh, he was cute…

"Inspector," the sergeant said, slowly getting to his feet. "She asked to see you—said she's just been assigned here and needed to report to you."

"Thank you, Sergeant Hachirou. Inspector Itoh," he introduced himself. "Thanks for coming in. I just got a call from my superiors telling me that you'll be rotated into the ward for the next two weeks. Would you come with me? We can speak inside."

Yu nodded blithely, and Itoh led her into the main office enclosure beyond the lobby. Seeing that it was past eleven at night, the number of personnel available was considerably lesser, with only essential bodies around to man their posts. They passed through rows of meticulously aligned workstations, stopping before a large board displaying a detailed map of Minato ward.

The universe had a quirky sense of humour sending her here, of all places.

"My superintendent mentioned something else—a liaison position," Itoh said. "He wasn't too clear with the details. Could you elaborate?"

"Of course," Yu said. "PSC wants me to run point and investigate any leads here in Minato ward regarding the Hero Killer. Please don't see my presence here as a hindrance to either the investigation or your station's operations. I'm here in my capacity as a Pro Hero to assist, Inspector Itoh."

"I see…" Itoh smiled thinly. "I'm not naive enough to be able to look past the political motivations behind this."

"Excuse me?"

"It's in the name, isn't it? _Hero Killer_ ," Itoh pointed out. "Imagine the repercussions if anyone other than a Pro Hero was the one to bring him to justice. There's already enough tension in the city. I suppose the government couldn't run the risk of continuing to have their Pro Heroes be seen as fallible."

Oh God.

He was a weirdo…

Yu resisted rolling her eyes. "You're awfully blunt, Inspector," she said flatly.

Itoh laughed. "Only when I find it impossible to ignore the inadequacies of our society. We jump through so many hoops and create meaningless divides just so we could live out our days in fear; one that we could barely manage. There has to be a better way, don't you think? One where everyone—Pro Heroes, the police, and civilians—could contribute meaningfully to safeguard our community."

"I guess… But what can you do about it?"

"I plan to change it." His smile grew, revealing a perfect set of teeth that was far from natural; she could only assume the cosmetic work must have cost a bomb. "I'm not going to stay as an inspector forever. Meaningful change can only come from the top."

"Okay… I'll be sure to vote for you if you ever become an assemblyman in my area." Yu turned back to the board, gesturing at the map. "Mind if we get back on track? I was wondering what kind of set-up there is to monitor the Hero Killer here in the city."

It was remarkable how quickly Itoh flipped a switch—from a would-be politician to a consummate professional.

"Currently, we've only been able to dedicate a small team to manage the public hotline tips sent in from HQ, but verifying and collating all that information is a drain on our resources. Worse, the number of calls has started to pile up, as of late."

"I'd like to start there then," she said. "Is it possible for me to have all those information on hand?"

"Unfortunately, for security reasons, I can't grant you access to our database. However, we do have a manual workaround." He pointed to a printer.

"Yu looked at him, askance. "You can't be serious?"

"Welcome to the world of bureaucracy."

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Cups (III)_ …

* * *

 _ **Side Note(s):** I've had some fantastic help from Katsugi this chapter to really make the story stick, so kudos to him for being the patient dude that he is. __As always, feedback and comments are definitely appreciated._

 _ _The extras below are canon btw, FYI!  
__

* * *

 ** _Extra (A): And so, Kendo Itsuka's teenage romantic comedy is wrong, as expected_** ** _…_**

* * *

Three days into her week-long internship, Kendo Itsuka was still at half-a-mind over her experience.

On one hand, Minato and Yu were seriously, seriously nice people. On the other, she felt like an extra being billed as 'Third Wheel #1' in the ending credits of a rom-com movie; it didn't help that she had accidentally walked in on them the other night.

Her upperclassman had tried to play it off, but… come on, it wasn't like she was born yesterday.

Being the eldest daughter in a family with three younger brothers made her accustomed to the role of a 'no-nonsense' big sister. This naturally bled into her school life where she took it upon herself to corral her wayward peers—or just the one in particular.

So, coming into an entirely new dynamic where she was the youngest, to be cared for and looked after, took some getting used to; she found that she didn't entirely dislike the notion.

Yu was helpful when she was around, but still had been mostly absent for the last few days. Having been tasked with an additional workload, on top of the irregular patrol hours, meant that Yu couldn't afford to give her internship much attention. The older woman had repeatedly expressed her regret at the circumstances, but Itsuka didn't have the heart to blame her; it was obvious in the last day or two that she had been running on fumes alone.

At the very least, there was the patrol to look forward to tomorrow.

Minato had stepped up to fill that void, which was why she was currently eating crow, face up on the practice mat for what must have been the fourth time this morning.

"That's," he exhaled audibly, "…match."

"I got careless," Itsuka said, turning around to lie flat on her stomach. She took off her protective headgear and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. "If I'd watched my footing more, I could have had you right then and there."

Even if her sparring partner had her at a disadvantage with the reach of his weapon, Minato was a quick-study when it came to a fight; the kind of opponent that was infuriatingly good but didn't make her want to tear out her hair in frustration.

Itsuka bore her losses with an even mind, which was the way she had been taught ever since she took her first steps into the rigorous style of Kyokushin. She did, however, start the unhealthy habit of hoarding her wins over her upperclassman, of which she had her share of yesterday.

As good as he was, he didn't have the stamina for a prolonged fight.

He hit hard.

He hit fast.

But she lasted longer.

"You're breathing awfully hard there, senpai," Itsuka noted, grinning. "You're not getting tired, are you? It's barely been an hour. I'm still just warming up."

Wordlessly, he made a motion with his fingers; the universal sign of 'come get me'.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"You talk too much," he told her, breathless.

"And you talk too little." Somewhere behind her, she heard a man laugh, saying, "You know, Arisato… When you asked me for permission to use my place this week, I was half-expecting you to come with Yao-chan. Instead, I find you here canoodling with someone else."

Minato had mentioned the man in passing; Takahara Shinji, the owner of this kobudō training hall.

From what she had been able to glean, the two had struck up a friendship and an unspoken understanding over the use of the man's premises—have it be spotless at the end of practice and it's yours to use. Between herself and Minato, they had spent the better part of an hour yesterday afternoon doing exactly that.

"Yaoyorozu?" she couldn't help but ask. "From 1-A?"

"We're friends," Minato said. "Why?"

Itsuka fiddled with her ponytail, laughing weakly. "Oh, just something stupid I heard." He raised an eyebrow, to which she continued hesitantly, "W-Well, someone said she was dating one of the seniors. Honestly, I should have figured that senior was you, senpai… By now, probably half the rumours in UA involve you somehow."

Her upperclassman closed his eyes and sighed, almost as if all of it was beneath him, and his life wasn't like those terribly clichéd harem protagonists stories that her brother… secretly… enjoyed… reading…

"So, aren't you going to introduce me to the little spitfire here?" Takahara asked Minato, nudging him in his ribs lightly. "I didn't know you had it in you, kid."

Oh, no…

The look Minato gave her was a mixed one, halfway between meaningful and encouraging. "She's my—"

"Itsuka!"

She shook her head quickly.

"I-I meant my name," she stammered. "My name is Itsuka. Uhm, Kendo Itsuka. I'm his junior at school, and we work at the same agency together. That's all it is…"

The traitorous thought at the back of her mind seemingly whispered:

 _For now…_

Itsuka coughed into a hand, cheeks colouring. "Right," she said forcefully. "I'm an idiot and I need to hide in the bathroom for a while. Takahara-san," she bowed low at the waist, "it is a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for allowing us to use your dojo. In the meantime, please excuse me."

0.0

As Itsuka removed herself from the hall, head bowed and features dearth, Takahara turned to Arisato Minato, whistling.

"They just keep dropping around you like flies, huh?" Takahara said. "You better be careful, Arisato. That's how they get ya. Take it from a guy who's been married twice."

"You talk too much."

* * *

 ** _Extra (B): And so, Yaoyorozu Momo_** ** _is nominated for_** ** _a different internship_** ** _…_**

* * *

"Do you know why I nominated you?"

It was a simple question, an expected one; it was a question Yaoyorozu Momo had anticipated, scrutinised and practised for in the last few days. However, instead of her carefully well-rehearsed answer, what came out of her mouth had been a remark her mother had thrown around in passing.

"You… You interned for my father once."

The woman looked surprised. "He remembered that?" Even as her lips parted to reveal a row of sharp teeth, her smile was genial—one that reached up to her eyes. She scratched at her temples, brushing aside her fringe. "How embarrassing… He wound up being so busy that I barely spent any time under him."

"He has asked me to pass you his well-wishes," Momo said. "And he looks forward to how well you will perform in this year's ranking, Ryukyu-san."

"I'll be sure to thank him myself." Her sharp eyes narrowed ever so slightly, saying, "But you never answered my question, Momo."

Momo bit the inside of her cheek.

"I can't quite say."

"You came very highly recommended," Ryukyu said, not unkindly. "While I was not present for the Sports Festival, one of my subordinates was. She was adamant that I consider nominating you for a position in my agency."

"Your subordinate?"

"Yes." Ryukyu stood up, walking across the length of the meeting room to unfurl the blinds to the glass partition. "This one…"

Pressed up against the glass, a girl in a skin-tight bodysuit knocked vigourously on the glass panel. "You got her!" she called out excitedly, her voice muffled through the glass. When she spoke, the twin spiral horn-like appendages seemingly bounced in excitement with her, "You got the Doraemon girl!"

While her face was far from forgettable, her undying exuberance was something Momo could never forget. "Ah! The senior from the Sports Festival!"

"—Arisato with Itsuka-chan! I promise to take her out on patrols every day! And bring her out for lunch! And teach her everything there is to know about being a Pro Hero! And-And…"

"She told me how the two of you met—assisting with the evacuations during the festival," Ryukyu explained. "From what Nejire told me, you should great leadership and initiative. To be able to see the bigger picture, especially in the midst of a disaster, is not something many your age could do."

"Ne, ne! Ryukyun~~! Are you listening? Are you listening? Her Quirk is really amazing! Did you know it allows her to break down her adipose cells and convert the resultant release of fat-soluble vitamins to—"

Ryukyu redid the blinds, blocking them from view once more. "Don't mind her," she said. "Nejire can be a bit of a know-it-all, but she honestly means well."

"Aww~~ You didn't let me finish!"

* * *

 _ **Extra (C): And so, Itoh Nagai meets an old colleague**_ _ ** ** _…_****_

* * *

"Hail HYDRA, brother," the voice whispered in his ear.

The moment Itoh Nagai tried to turn his head, his cheek came into contact with something cold and foreign. The inspector reached out for the proffered object and chuckled quietly upon seeing it for what it was.

A carbonated sports drink—HYDRA-8.

He turned fully. "You know, Tokoname-senpai… It amazes me that you can remember something as minor as my favourite sports drink, but somehow struggle to keep track of the time."

Tokoname Tatsuyuki was a muscular man with a pronounced square-ish jaw. Decked out in an elaborate purple body-suit, he stood tall and rigid, with well-defined arms posed lightly by his hips; it gave off the appearance that he was much larger than he let on.

The Pro Hero known as Slidin' Go had been a regular feature in the district of Akasaka during Itoh's earlier stint as a patrol officer. The two had struck up an easy-going friendship in that time. It was only natural that they got close—sharing interests and ideologies that weren't exactly commonplace. It was only a few months back that the man had been rotated out of Akasaka, stationed in a smaller city in the outskirts of Tokyo.

"My apologies, Inspector," Slidin' Go said, chipper. "There was a minor altercation along the way that required my immediate attention. It took slightly longer than I expected." He gestured to the sports drink. "Hence, the apology gift!"

"Think nothing of it, senpai. I was joking with you." Itoh smiled lightly. "It's been a while since we last met, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has. I was pleasantly surprised that you reached out to me. Or was there something else you needed?"

"Well, now that you're here… I feel like I may have prematurely shot the gun."

Slidin' Go waggled his forefinger and tutted under his breath. "Now, now, Itoh. I am your senior in the organisation after all. It is only natural that a kouhai should lean on his senpai for support!" He leaned in close, whispering, "Have you been spreading the good word then? Is there a high-value target that's caught your eye?"

Slowly, Itoh nodded.

"There is—a woman. Another Pro Hero by the name of Mount Lady…"


	8. VIII

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 _ **Author's Notes:** Updates will be sporadic at best from here on out. Sorry.  
_

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0.0

* * *

"Excuse us," Itsuka murmured, bowing as she crossed the threshold to his former apartment.

When Yu hadn't shown up at the time she had promised them, Arisato Minato couldn't hide a frown. When she didn't respond to neither his texts nor his calls, he couldn't sit still. When she opened the front door to their apartment, looking dead on her feet, he couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or…

He heaved a quiet sigh as he followed after Itsuka.

"Your calls went straight to voice-mail," Minato told Yu. "Do you know what time it is?"

The woman palmed a hand over her face, looking up at him blearily. "I'm guessing there's still light out?" She yawned, hanging her head forward as she mumbled, "Sorry, I got held up at HQ this morning. I barely got home a few hours ago—guess I forgot to charge the damn thing."

Minato shook his head. "Maybe we should rethink today's patrol," he said. "You're exhausted."

The past few days had not been kind on Yu and it showed. In between her reassigned night-time patrols and additional workload to assist the Public Safety Commission with the Hero Killer investigation, she barely had time for herself, much less them.

The state of the apartment mirrored that.

His hand inched towards his modest dining table, cluttered as it was with hand-written notes and police missives, and swiped the surface with a forefinger. He held up the dust-coated finger to her.

Yu swatted at him.

"It's fine—I'm fine, Minato. However bad you think this is, I've slogged through worse." She clasped Itsuka by her shoulders, dragging the younger girl between them. "Besides, Itsuka only has a few more days with us. God only knows that I've been a terrible mentor."

The girl in question looked uncomfortable. "You're not," she said, sheepish. "But could you maybe try not to use me as a meat shield?"

Yu was nonplussed. "We owe it to her, Minato." The woman shook her charge lightly. "We owe it to the next generation of heroes! To teach them what it truly takes to be one!"

"You're delirious," Minato said.

"Pish-posh! I'm all—" a sudden yawn briefly overcame the woman, "—fired… up," Yu finished lamely.

"Uhm," Itsuka started. "I'm not gonna lie and say that I haven't been looking forward to the patrol." She turned to Yu, saying, "But you've been really busy with work. I get that. I'm not going to blame you for wanting some time to yourself to rest."

"Aww, you're such a sweetheart."

"Plus, I've been learning a lot from sparring with Minato-senpai. He's really good. Half the stuff he does with that sword of his is—"

"Oh God!" Yu pushed Itsuka forward, her eyes shut in mock dismay. "I don't need to hear what my hot-blooded interns get up to when I'm not around to supervise them!"

Itsuka was still naive enough to be embarrassed, but Minato saw it for what it was—a clever attempt at deflection. He frowned at Yu.

"I don't like it. Your judgement will be impaired. I've seen it happen enough."

He was speaking from experience.

Juggling the triple-threat of his studies, a social life, and his extracurricular activities with SEES had consumed every waking minute of his old life. It was a wonder he had accomplished as much as he did without being utterly sleep-deprived.

"Honestly, I appreciate you looking out for me," Yu said. "But I can work through this, Minato. It's just for today. I already swapped my schedule just so I could have this with the two of you. Besides, this will mean that I'm freed up for the whole day tomorrow." She sidled next to him, nudging him with an elbow. "Itsuka can't keep having you for herself. Maybe it's time you show me how good you are with that _big_ sword of yours, huh?"

"I never said it was big!"

Mechanically, they turned towards their youngest charge; Yu, with a widening grin, and him, with a raised brow. Itsuka, for her part, lifelessly slumped down onto the couch, clenching her eyes shut, and mimed a 'T' with her hands.

"You okay there, Itsuka?" Yu asked. "You made it a little too easy. It's kinda like shooting fish in a barrel."

The girl kept quiet but gestured with her hands, re-emphasising the 'T'.

Unwilling to prolong his underclassman's torment, Minato pointed Yu towards the en-suite bathroom. "Go and wash up. We're due for patrol soon."

"Why are you so eager to get me out of the room all of a sudden?" Yu wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Or do you wanna come in with me?"

"We're running late," he said. "And you're not helping."

"And you're no fun." Yu stuck her tongue out at him. "Fine, fine. Just let me go grab my things."

The woman scampered around the apartment, collecting her clothes and toiletries, before sequestering herself in the bathroom; not before leaving them a few choice words, to Itsuka's chagrin.

Itsuka slung an arm over her face and groaned at the ceiling. "Is this why you hardly talk, senpai? To stop her from baiting you like that?"

He blinked.

"No," he finally said after a pause. "But it helps."

* * *

0.0

* * *

It was one thing to wear his costume in school during lessons, but to wear it in public didn't sit well with Arisato Minato. Even if his costume was more practical than flashy, it didn't mean that he didn't get self-conscious.

Especially now…

"Cheese~~!"

Yu had pulled both him and Itsuka close. Her phone was held out at an arm's length as she tried to take a wide-angled selfie. Thankfully, they were in a deserted corridor of the local district police station in Odaiba; it was after Yu had done the necessary check-ins prior to the start of her patrol.

The older woman frowned when she checked her phone.

"Would it honestly kill you to smile?" she asked Minato. "It's our first patrol together, and it's the first time my sidekicks are decked out in their cute little costumes. I wanna frame it up and put it in the office."

"You said the same when we had dinner the other night."

"I'm a sentimental idiot," Yu grumbled. "What's your excuse?"

When he tried to walk away, she grabbed ahold of his scarf and refused to let go, even as he swatted lightly at her hand; it was a fatal flaw in an otherwise well-meaning gift. Yu gave him the deadest of stares.

Minato couldn't hold out for much longer and gave in.

"It's funny," Yu said. "This is probably the first picture I have of you where you're not openly scowling at the camera. I know you got the quiet bad boy thing going on, but girls appreciate a little honey now and then—just to know that guys have a different side to them. Ain't that right, Battle Fist?"

Itsuka, dressed in a figure-hugging blue qipao, held her hands up and shook her head, her expression serene.

"Still going at that vow of silence, huh?"

The girl nodded plainly.

"I got a whole twelve hours before my shift ends. And you two are going to spend the next six with me. Let's see how far I can take it before you crack."

Itsuka sighed, deflating. "Please don't…"

Time idled away as they settled into an easy rhythm patrolling the bustling waterfront district of Odaiba. The area reminded him of Tatsumi Port Island, with its retail malls and leisure attractions. The only downside was that they weren't there to have fun.

Any kind of enthusiasm Itsuka had shown at the start had quickly been tempered once the stark reality of what a patrol entailed sunk in.

"Go… right," Yu explained in halting English to a tourist, gesturing to the map on the man's phone. "Down subway. Take Rinkai-sen. Stop Ebisu-eki." She wiggled her fore and middle fingers. "Take Hibiya-sen. Then stop Roppongi-eki!"

Her subsequent smile was like a child figuring out a shape-sorter toy.

Minato and Itsuka could only hang back and watch from a distance, but his underclassman's disappointment was as plain as day.

"I feel like my precious childhood memories are being crushed before my eyes," Itsuka mumbled next to him. "I mean, when you were growing up and you'd see all these amazing Pro Heroes, you'd never expect the other side to be so…"

"Dull?" Minato added.

Itsuka nodded wearily. "This is like the third time we've been stopped by tourists asking for directions and—" she shuddered, " _—that_."

"Never met a foreign cape before. Are you famous here in Japan?" the tourist, a man with auburn hair, asked Yu in English. "Honestly, you're something else. Mind if I take a picture with you and that Chinese ninja girl?"

"The two of you are surprisingly popular," Minato conceded.

"So he's talking about me then?" Itsuka's smiled was strained. "It's almost inevitable at this point."

In contrast, Yu's smile was more genial, if a little too polished. "No selfie now," she replied in English. "Sorry. Hero business."

To the man's obvious disappointment, Yu chose that moment to walk away and signalled them to follow along. "Pro tip number one, boys and girls: if you're not wearing a full-faced mask, you gotta learn how to control your emotions, especially in public." She pinched Itsuka on her cheek lightly. "Practise in front of a mirror. It helps."

Itsuka bowed in apology. "Sorry, it's a lot to take in."

"Does that happen often?" Minato asked.

"Guys being creeps? Yeah, sorta." Yu took a finger to her chin, and added, "Usually it's the foreigners that don't know who you are that will try something. If your costume is even remotely flattering, then you're practically a walking pair of legs-slash-help desk."

Itsuka made a face, laughing weakly. "It can't be that bad, right? At least it's just the tourists?"

"Hate to break it to you," Yu said, deadpan. "Pro tip number two: if you ever come across your name online, _do not_ ," she stressed, "read the comments. I've been down that rabbit hole more than once. Even if it starts off nice and innocent, it's almost always guaranteed to get worse."

Itsuka paled beneath her mask. "Oh…"

"It's the reality you have to face. And unless All Might suddenly professes that he's been wearing a skirt underneath his spandex tights all along, there's only so much you can do on your own to change things."

"But that doesn't mean that it won't," Minato said. "Changing that perception doesn't come overnight."

"Yeah…" Yu shook her head, saying, "Yeah, exactly. I've always seen it as a well-intentioned pyramid scheme." She smiled and clasped the two of them by the shoulder. "I reach out to the two of you, and you two do the same to two others, and those four each get two of their own, and so on and so forth.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to advocate for womankind by becoming a Pro Hero. I know there are issues out there that are just as important, if not more so." Yu scratched at her temples, sheepish. "But I have made a few missteps early on in my career that I kinda regret now. I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did—either of you."

Minato gave her an odd look at being mentioned.

"Some things are above gender inequality," she told him.

Itsuka, who had her head bowed all this time, nodded slowly. "You know," she said. "They don't teach you stuff like this in UA, so it's enlightening to hear insight from a pro out in the field—enlightening but… depressing at the same time."

"That's the life you chose." Yu shrugged. "A rose is a rose, but you can't overlook the fact that it's sitting in a pile of cow poo. It's the same with hero work. It can be a dirty thankless job at times, but it has its way of rewarding you."

Itsuka blinked. "Wow… That's actually kind of deep."

"I'm surprised it made sense," Minato said.

Yu made a motion to grab ahold of the ends of his scarf, but he leaned well out of her reach. "You, of all people, should be well aware of my genius by now," she said haughtily. "Now, come back here and accept your punishment like a man."

He didn't budge an inch. "I think we gave you too much coffee back at the station."

A smile broke over Yu's lips, one which she failed to smother. "Oh, yeah? How about I—" Sadly, it was short-lived. "Shoot. Wait a sec, I got a call coming in." She shushed them with a finger and tapped at her ear. "Mount Lady here… That's right. I'm in Sector-4A with—"

That was all he heard before she walked away out of earshot.

"What do you think that's about?" Itsuka asked him.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Thankfully, her call didn't last for much longer and Yu returned to them, frowning. "Okay, despatch just told me that we'll be on standby. The police are running a sting operation in the area and they need us for crowd control if things get hinky."

Itsuka winced. "Is it the Hero Killer?"

"No, it's Trigger-related." Even as Yu smiled, Minato could sense how brittle it was. "Relax, it'll be fine—Slugger's there. He's running point alongside the police." She slung an arm around Itsuka, saying, "How about that, huh? You two might actually get to see some action on your first day out."

"So it's just crowd control?" Minato asked. "Nothing more than that?"

Yu rolled her eyes at him. "We're expecting quite a bit of foot traffic in the area, so we'll likely end up observing from afar. It's not as if the two of you have your provisional licenses. You can't imagine the amount of paperwork I'd have to go through if shit hits the fan with you two around."

"You're kind of throwing red flags everywhere," Itsuka said.

"Pffft… No way! My luck can't be that bad!"

* * *

0.0

* * *

 _ **StarJK69 (Me):**_ _Are we still on?_ _You didn't forget rite?_

 _ **BigDaddy_Kugs:**_ _Location pinned_ _._

 _ _ **BigDaddy_Kugs:**_ Bring the agreed amount._

Shady 'under-the-table' dealings in a secluded alley were a cliché, Hachisuka Kuin realised. Still, there was just no looking past the sheer convenience of it. With the way Tokyo was built up as a metropolis, it was easy to find a hiding hole in one of its many nooks and crannies.

Kuin stuffed her phone back into her jacket and walked towards the mouth of the alley, but quickly paused in her steps. Given how tall the surrounding buildings were, parts of the alley were mired in barely-lit darkness.

She was not unprepared, however.

Although, her Quirk wasn't the most effective in a direct fight, she was not without a means to bust her way out of trouble. Her little drones had been outfitted to carry doses of Trigger and liquid explosives; their mutation having allowed them to house toxins in their specialised stingers. It was not without its drawbacks, however; using them usually led to their deaths, which in turn took a toll on her health.

Surreptitiously, Kuin directed one of her carrier bees at the slowly approaching figure.

"S-StarJK69?"

Kugutsu was a timid-looking man. Dressed in a well-worn and ill-fitting suit, he had his shoulders hunched and head bowed, as he cradled a suitcase flush against his chest. His eyes, narrowed to the point that they were almost slits, shifted uncomfortably, as if they were looking at something past her.

"Ehhh~~?" Her voice was lighter—airier—as she blinked slowly. "What'cha talking about, mister?"

"You're the one who messaged me, right? StarJK69? I'm BigDaddy. You asked me about the… about the drugs— _Trigger_?" he added in a low whisper. "I have what you want."

He fumbled for his suitcase, undoing the latch. In doing so, it slipped out of his grasp, spilling its contents on the ground. They were toys—figurines of famous Pro Heroes; she spied All Might, the familiar red, blue and yellow, among them.

"A-Ah, shit!"

Kugutsu scrambled to retrieve his figurines, sinking to his hands and knees as he hastily dumped them back into his suitcase. Once more, his nerves betrayed him, and his eyes strayed past her.

It was almost sad how bad it was.

No rival faction worth their salt would succumb to… _this_ , unless it was a next-level attempt at misdirection. She doubted it, which could only mean that Kugutsu had been turned to work as an informant for either the police or the Pro Heroes—more likely both.

The knowledge did bring her some measure of relief. When one side had to abide by self-imposed rules, that made her life comparably easier.

She didn't have to turn around; to do so would give her away. Instead, she directed more bees to latch on to the nearby civilians. It gave her a limited form of awareness, forming a mental map of all the moving bodies in her vicinity. As a group of five individuals made a literal beeline for her location, she started to slowly back out of the alley.

"You're like, seriously freaking me out, mister," Kuin said.

"W-Wait, you reached out to me! No one else knows that I'm in Tokyo!" Kugutsu staggered forward, holding his hands out, as if ready to physically stop her from escaping. "Y-You must work for them, right? H-Help me! I can still be use—"

That was enough.

" _Pervert!_ " she screamed. " _Molester!_ Help! Someone please help!"

Cue exit stage left.

Kuin didn't get far before she was accosted by a team of four non-uniformed officers and a Pro Hero leading the way.

The Pro Hero, a man, was tall and skinny. He had gravity-defying orange hair, and wore a slitted face mask that broke vertically across his face. His costume was a loose pinstripe baseball uniform bastardised with protective padding over his shoulders and joints.

"The pervert is in there!" Kuin shouted. "He tried to grope me, Pro Hero-san!"

Kuin clenched her eyes shut and crashed into the Pro Hero in mock distress, clinging onto the front of his uniform. The small act of misdirection allowed a carrier bee to latch onto the folds of the Pro Hero's costume.

She was pushed away forcibly.

The man lowered his weapon, a grey metal bat with a black handle, but not his guard; the officers backing him up started to surround her from all sides, at a distance. "Pro Hero: Slugger," he introduced himself. "What were you doing in that alley, miss?"

Kugutsu chose that moment to stumble out of the alley.

"He's right there!"

Slugger visibly tensed. "Miss, you haven't answered my question: what were you doing in there?"

Kuin feigned confusion and spared a terrified glance at those around her—at the civilian passers-by, the officers—but didn't quite meet the eyes of the Pro Hero. She tried to project herself to appear smaller by withdrawing her body into herself.

In another life, she could have seen herself as an actress.

"I s-saw something moving," she answered. "And I thought it was a hungry kitty… But it turned out to be that man and he was really weird and he asked me if I was a high school girl who liked to 'sixty-nine' a-and—" she trailed off and pressed her face into her hands, heaving quietly.

The crowd grew with each passing moment, as did their incomprehensible murmurs and pointed stares. No one dared to intervene, but plenty had started to record with their phones.

One of the officers broke off and sidled next to Slugger, whispering lowly into his ear. He turned back to her. "Miss, I need you to follow my instructions to the letter, do you understand?"

Shakily, Kuin nodded.

"Good. The police will escort you back to the station to be vetted, and they'll call in your parents to sort things out. Right now, I need you to surrender everything you have on your person so that it can be submitted for an examination." Slugger motioned to an officer; a brown-haired woman with an unremarkable face. "This is Sergeant Hanakawa. You will pass her your belongings and she will search your person thereafter. Is that clear?"

Kuin shook her head. "W-Why am I being punished when I didn't do anything wrong?"

"Miss, you walked into an active police investigation. We need to take every precaution necessary to ensure the public's safety. Just to be clear, you were never in any danger, and if everything checks out, all of this will clear up in the next few days."

Kuin looked around.

The on-going commotion had drawn an even bigger crowd. More patrol cars had arrived on scene, accompanied by the wailing cries of police sirens. They were ably supported by a trio of Pro Heroes, working in tandem, to corral the masses away.

She couldn't delay her escape; her best means to do so was to lose the police in the crowd. Thankfully, she knew exactly how to achieve that.

An overdose of Trigger, concentrated thrice over, would cause an immediate reaction, weakening the user's sense of self and reason, and drastically boosting their Quirk capabilities. Of the handful she had with her, Kuin sent out the remaining carrier bees over the area, into the now dispersing crowd.

Kuin primed her carrier bees.

"Ah, I understand, Pro Hero-san," she said quietly. "I guess there's no other way…"

And ordered them to attack.

Slugger fell to his knees, screaming his throat raw, as his body bulged and distended unnaturally. His frame grew bulkier, almost top heavy, as he filled out his once loose uniform entirely. Thick, wiry veins protruded through the fabric of his uniform.

"Slugger!"

The Pro Hero turned towards the officers fully, all of whom had their weapons drawn at him. He tilted his head up, as if tasting the air, and the faintest whiff of orange smoke escaped through the mouth slit in his mask. Quick as a whip, Slugger hefted his metal bat sideways and mimed the act of slamming it into the mid-section of Sergeant Hanakawa.

There was no contact, but the female officer folded into the blow and was thrown bodily across the street, into a display window of a family restaurant.

"Hanakawa's down! Hanakawa's down!" one of the officers shouted. "Watch out for Kugutsu!"

Her target had his hands pressed against the sides of his face as he slammed his head into a concrete wall—again, and again, and again.

Kugutsu laughed incomprehensibly as thick coagulated blood trickled from his disfigured forehead. It assimilated into his skin, and the scarlet tar-like substance stretched and swelled to knit flesh and muscle over his person. He grew not just in size, but an extra pair of arms, and did not stop until he towered over the waterfront district.

"Scenario A! Scenario A! Trigger victims are attacking the crowd!"

"Someone call for backup!"

Shots reverberated around her, as the quick hiss and snap of pistol fire flew over her head, at the colossal being now gleefully taking its first steps away from the scene. Kuin thanked her lucky stars and did the same, slipping inside the crowd and disappearing into the ensuing chaos.

Honestly, that could have gone slightly better…

* * *

0.0

* * *

The fear in the air was tangible.

 _'Listen to me…'_ Yu's voice had been soft, encouraging, _'I trust you, Minato. I trust your judgement. And I trust that, above all else, you'll do everything within your power to do what's right.'_

Arisato Minato could see it on the faces of the fleeing civilians, could hear their anguished screams meld together—only before the thunderous roar of an explosion rippled through the air. Somewhere behind them, where the civilians were escaping towards, he spied thick billowing smoke, the strong acrid smell soon reaching his senses.

He glimpsed forward, just as Yu activated her Quirk to engage the colossal being that was now weaving in and around the surrounding buildings, wreaking havoc on the streets.

 _'You're a hero. A natural-born leader. I can see it. So help these people, Minato. Save them.'_

Itsuka was standing next to him.

She tried to look the part, but her eyes gave her away. He could tell. Emotions flickered like a broken kaleidoscope—fear, anticipation, anger. Still, the girl tried to hide that quiver in her hands by clenching her fists tight.

"Leader," she called out softly. "What do we do?"

Being called a leader had brought him back, even if it wasn't their voices calling out for him. He could imagine it, however. That feeling of déjà vu was pervasive. It was the same now as it was then. He could see himself standing on that rooftop alone with Yukari, as a massive shadow bore down upon them.

Yet, it wasn't.

Here, Itsuka was waiting for him. She wasn't the only one.

In that all-encompassing darkness in which he was the centre, the light that shone down upon him grew stronger, pulsating like a fervent heartbeat. A winged messenger descended from the heavens, his very being bathing Minato's subconscience in his light, and purifying the inky darkness as if it were a mere stain.

 _Uriel._

The Flame of God.

His veneration may have come as an afterthought, but for as long as the embers of humanity had burned, there were plenty that spoke of his great deeds. His, after all, was a God-given purpose—to carry the word of God down upon the realm of mortals. It so rarely ended there. Battles had been waged in God's name, and in the same breadth, they had been won.

His words carried weight so that the light did not break.

His words carried strength so that the light would not yield.

And as the light gained purchase, his spirit was lifted and a purpose was made clear.

"Mahamaon."

A brilliant veil of light shimmered beneath his footsteps, and his stride grew more assured, lighter, as the very ground he walked on became hallowed. He felt power surge through him, that all-too-familiar strength swelling in his core.

Itsuka looked at him in awe. "Why are we glowing?" the girl asked; gone were the nerves. She tested the strength in her hands, clenching and unclenching her fists. "God, I feel like I could punch through a truck."

The being inside him compelled Minato to punish her for taking his name in vain; others have died for less. He shrugged it off. Instead, he gestured at Itsuka to follow him, at a sprint. "We circle around. Save the civilians. Then come back to help her," he said. "Don't stray too far. The effects will get weaker."

As they pushed forward, there were plenty that flocked to him. Being a literal beacon of light, people sought safety and comfort under his aegis, but they directed the now sandwiched crowd to fall back. Most funnelled into smaller intersections, away from the battle, and others barricaded themselves inside businesses in the area.

Further ahead, where the blanketing fumes were thickest, bodies littered the street. Even from afar, he could tell that some of those unfortunate souls had passed.

Itsuka gasped.

"Hey, look at me," he told her gently. "We need to clear the area first. There are still people that we can save."

Something shot out from within the smoke—a woman, who was more of a contorting mess of limbs and flesh than an actual person. She was fast, almost a blur, as she latched onto a nearby building, digging her bladed hands and feet into concrete and scaling up its side.

Minato could hear the sounds of ligaments cracking and popping, as her head twisted and was lowered to rest flat against her back. She let loose a warbled cry, as if resonating her anguish, and skittered around the surrounding buildings like a spider, using the thick smog as cover.

Like a switch, Itsuka was all-business.

"She's fast," the girl noted. "We can't fight on her terms. It'd take forever to whittle her down if she keeps jumping around like that. We need to draw her in and hit her hard."

"Can you hold her down if you get an opening?"

His underclassman gave him the faintest of nods. "I can bait her."

"Do it."

When Itsuka activated her Quirk, he was reminded again of how scarred and calloused her hands were. "Let's get this out of the way first," she said. With her enlarged hands, Itsuka waved her arms forward, generating a gust of wind that dissipated the smoke in the immediate area.

A high-pitched screech reached his ears and Minato caught sight of the woman.

"Hey! Lady! Over here!" Itsuka clapped her hands, the meaty smack of flesh against flesh resounding like a mini-thunderclap. "Come on! You wanna fight? Try me for a change!"

With a clumsy but forceful leap, the woman threw herself off the side of a building and landed roughly on the streets before them, her ungainly limbs digging footholds into the asphalt to gain purchase.

She reared on her feet, raising one of her bladed hands aloft, and jerkily twisted her arm at the elbow, as if it was a spring to be wound. The flesh grew taut, tightening to the point that her skin ripped apart like a sheet of cloth, exposing the raw muscle coiled underneath.

The limb started whirring like a drill.

"We can save her, right?" Itsuka murmured. "You have a plan?"

"Yes," he said. "Mind your feet."

The woman charged at them, head on.

Minato readied himself. There was a knack to the timing. Too early and the woman might veer away from his trap; leave it too late and Itsuka would suffer for his mistake.

Fire came to him easily, as if it had a mind of its own. Even at a portion of its actual strength, the zealousness of the fire mirrored his persona's. He knelt down and pressed his hands flat against the asphalt. With a palm held out, Minato didn't draw upon the flames. Instead, he directed the heat to sink into the road, the superheated surface melting and turning into blackened slurry.

Screeching, the woman's bladed limbs sunk into the blistering viscous asphalt, and it slowed her down just within reach of Itsuka's enlarged hands.

"Now!"

His underclassman scooped the woman up, pulling her away from his trap, and with gritted teeth, slammed her down onto the concrete pavement. Scurrying on her feet, Itsuka re-positioned herself to gain leverage, pinning the now flailing woman flat on the ground.

Minato reacted before Itsuka could even muster a word in reply. Another persona came to the fore, and he reached forward, clasping the woman's head between his hands. The soft, translucent glow of Amrita washed over her temples. The effects dawned on the woman slowly. Beneath the curtain of black hair that hung over her face, he could see a spark of clarity reach her red-rimmed eyes. Her features then twisted into an ugly grimace.

"Let her go," he said.

Itsuka released her slowly, deactivating her Quirk as she did.

"W-What—What did I do?" the woman cried, hoarse. She looked at her bloodied and tarred hands, the bladed appendages retracting back into her skin. "Oh God… What did I do?" The terrible realisation must have hit her then, as her eyes surveyed her surroundings. She curled into a ball and sobbed into the crook of her uninjured arm.

Itsuka shared a look with him, worried, and knelt down to whisper lowly into the woman's ear.

Her grief was vulnerable, raw.

This wasn't something he could hand-waive away; doing anything more would be to paper over the cracks of a growing chasm. Altering her state of mind, only to allow her to fall back into despair… It wasn't a fate he would wish upon—

Screams pierced the air.

The ground shook. Like a geyser teeming with pent-up pressure, a spurt, an explosion—a combination of both—erupted on the streets, sending massive chunks of fiery rocks to rain down upon the area.

Itsuka's eyes shot up, widening. "Heads up!"

He needed ice.

And a king greeted him in his mind's eye, its wide empty smile large enough to swallow him whole. Minato looked away and drew upon its power. To peer any deeper into that unending black pit was to invite madness, for the mindless chatter of its subjects echoed inside that maw like a delirious frenzied chant.

 _Hee-ho._

Hoarfrost chilled in his veins.

"Mabufula."

Ice willed into existence with a swipe of his hand, coating the fiery rocks in a dense layer of permafrost. The extreme heat of the rocks cooled upon contact with the frigid temperatures of his attack. The smaller pieces broke apart almost immediately, but the larger ones remained; the biggest, its size comparable to that of a small truck, was still on its collision course, unimpeded.

"I can hit it!" Itsuka told him hurriedly. "Give me a boost!"

He needed strength.

And a hulking monstrosity greeted him, its features grotesque and skin red. Minato felt its unnatural strength imbibed his being, its bloodlust slowly staining his thoughts…

He clamped it down forcibly and gestured Itsuka forward.

As his underclassman ran at him, he lowered his bokken down at an angle and used it as a platform to launch her into the air—at the most imminent threat.

Aided by the radiance of his light, Itsuka drew her arm back by her side and thrust it forward; there was technique, finesse, in her short but sharp movement. The sudden expansion of her hands at the point of contact pulverised the chilled meteor on impact, turning up chunks that were no bigger than a granola.

Minato was on hand to keep the worst of what remained from harming the civilians.

Itsuka landed nimbly, using a combination of her Quirk and smart thinking to ease the momentum of her landing. With a strangled breath, she straightened herself.

"I didn't know I could do that," she said, looking down at her hands. The girl turned to him. "I didn't know you could do that. _How_ did we do that?"

"Battle Fist," he called out.

Minato nodded at the person lumbering towards them. The man was large and shirtless, with scraggly bits of rock fragments poking out from his dark skin. Flames licked the upper half of his torso, melting the cluster of regenerating rocks to fuse into a piecemeal armour, of sorts.

It was strange.

There was no way either of them wouldn't have noticed another trigger victim earlier, much less someone with his imposing stature. That could only mean the man had recently triggered, which meant…

"Watch yourself," he told Itsuka. "Look out for any bees."

Itsuka understood the implications and sent a wary look at her surroundings, her features guarded. "Yeah, sure." She faced forward. "How do you want to handle this? Same as before? I'm leaving it to you to call the shots, leader."

No…

He needed to end this.

And his personas bent to his will.

* * *

0.0

* * *

For Takeyama Yu, it was a rarity to come up short.

A full head shorter, to be exact.

Her adversary, Kugutsu, had a face that was like a blank mask—two round holes for eyes and a wide smile that bordered on manic. It seemed he only had two expressions; a happy mask and a sad mask.

He bore down upon her, throwing down rousing haymakers and elbows against her guard that went unanswered. With a longer reach and added limbs, it would have been foolhardy to meet him in a stand-up fight, but even if she had to take a few blows on her chin, she endured it for the sake of those around her.

She was buying time for them to escape.

 **"Get out of the area!"** Yu warned, her voice loud and commanding; she didn't mince her words. **"If you stay in the buildings, you _will_ get crushed!"**

Fighting in urban landscapes was always going to be troublesome for any Pro Heroes with a destructive power-set, much less a Quirk like hers. Statistically, it was uncommon to possess a gigantification-type Quirk, especially a full-body transformation, but it wasn't so much winning the genetic lottery and more like getting a third-place prize in a raffle.

The prejudice that came with her Quirk was not unfounded, however; neither was the systemic discrimination she faced growing up.

It was a self-fulfilling prophecy.

For every villain with a gigantification Quirk that made the headlines, the more it engendered the narrative that it was a villainous Quirk—the death knell for any burgeoning hero hopeful.

But she found a way, even when life had pegged her down, to stand where she was now.

Despite her regrettable and well-publicised mistakes, Yu wouldn't let that prophecy come full circle for her. She had to be the one to take a stand, even if it took her whole life to win those hearts and minds.

Minato was right.

 _Changing that perspective won't come overnight._

It started here—with her.

So Yu kneed the fucker in the groin. _Hard._

The ground shook as Kugutsu crumpled to his knees; this despite the fact that he had no dangly bits hanging between his legs. His happy smile morphed into a sad sneer.

She would have felt bad if he was a civilian, but knowing that Kugutsu was a mid-level Trigger dealer turned police informant kinda softened the blow. He probably deserved it anyway…

She seized the opportunity to grasp Kugutsu by the back of his head, intent on driving her knee into his nose, but could only manage a weak attempt when an invisible pressure drove into her left eye.

Yu staggered back on uneven footing as she clutched at her eye; no amount of blinking would relieve the agony burning her cornea.

 **"M-Motherfu—arghhh!"**

Through the pain, Yu slowly forced her eye open. Half of her vision grew cloudy, out-of-focus, and stained in red.

Kugutsu suddenly grabbed at the front of her costume with one of his arms, but with well-practised movements, she broke the weak hold, twisting his thumb back. His mask contorted, as if to let out a scream, but it was cut short when she slammed her knee into the underside of his chin.

Just beyond Kugutsu, at the far end of the street, she spied Slugger run rampant amidst the wounded and dead; the non-uniformed officers, who were valiantly keeping him busy, among them. Slugger was attacking anyone and anything in his way, his anger aimless, but never his attacks—they were dead to rights.

Slugger was vaunted as an up-and-coming Pro Hero for good reason, having climbed his way steadily into the upper echelons of the profession in the last two years.

His Quirk, while not the most versatile, had incredible range and application; he had the ability to compress all the force he could generate in his body into a colourless baseball-sized sphere and launch it with a swing of his bat. In his triggered state, with his increased strength and staying power, there were few that could get in close.

And Slugger was now turning his attention towards them—huge and immobile targets with equally big and squishy vulnerable points; her ruined eye could attest to that. It seemed he still had some sense in his rage-induced mania.

Yu shielded her face as Slugger rained down an invisible onslaught upon her, with some landing against the back of Kugutsu's head.

Even in this form, they _hurt_ , not enough to stagger her in one shot, but enough to make her think twice; she didn't want to imagine what it was like for those civilians caught in his path.

 **"Slugger!"** she shouted. **"Snap out of it! Don't make me do this!"**

A hint of hesitation welled up inside her, but she crushed it.

Had it been her in his shoes, she would have begged to be stopped before she could do more harm. God only knows what was going to happen to his career after this…

With an arm slung over her eyes, she ducked her head down and slipped past Kugutsu, charging the short distance to Slugger. The man switched his focus and zoned his attacks on her legs, but Yu gritted through it, hobbling the last few steps to get at the older Pro Hero.

There was no finesse to her actions.

Yu groped blindly and scooped him up in her free hand, squeezing Slugger's squirming form, and threw him in an underhand throw, in the direction of Tokyo Bay. Slugger must have cleared a good kilometre or so, before he splashed bodily into the surface of the water.

Small mercies they were near the waterfront…

She exhaled through her mouth, breathing deeply. Lethargy had set in, the adrenaline that had coursed through her veins having dribbled away until it was spent. She was tired—her mind was tired.

That was why she missed it.

It was sudden.

Yu finally realised that the ground beneath her was quaking under the stress of rushed footsteps. Her good eye widened imperceptibly. She didn't even get to turn around before something heavy knocked her over her head.

* * *

0.0

* * *

"Amrita…"

Kneeling across from her upperclassman, Kendo Itsuka watched as he pressed his hands into the struggling man's temple. He had his eyes clenched shut, in apparent concentration.

She had tried, more than once, to needle him about his Quirk. He didn't brush her off, per se, but explained that his powers were situational. The little demonstrations he had shown both her and Yu before were… underwhelming, like an amateur magician performing with cheap store-bought tricks. Given what she had seen today, the difference was night and day.

No wonder UA bent over backwards to have him in their Heroics programme…

Slowly, she could see the murkiness fade from the large man's eyes, and like the man lying supine before them, she could only stare at Minato, blinking. There were no visible changes to the victim's physical state; he was as imposing as ever, with his Quirk having been boosted by Trigger. But it was clear that his rage-induced mania had passed.

The shirtless trigger victim tried to sit up, but could only manage to lift his head. A war hammer, no longer than her forearm, was laid flat on the man's chest. The weapon had, by its own weight, pinned a flailing unstoppable juggernaut of a man just moments ago.

She tried poking the damn thing earlier and it didn't even budge.

Some kind of density effect maybe? It didn't explain how he was able to transform his bokken into _that_.

Or the lightning… The ice too.

Or the fire and that weird glowing thing.

Even this…

"What… What happened to me?" The man squinted his eyes as he looked down at his body, trying to pull the weapon off him, to no avail. "W-What is this?"

Minato plucked the weapon off the larger man's chest, making it look effortless. "Sorry," he said.

It didn't make sense. It really didn't.

Itsuka shook her head and took that as a cue to help the man up to a seated position. "Sir, you might be in shock." She placed her hand on his shoulder, the skin that wasn't covered in rocks, and squeezed gently. "Could you tell me your name?"

She tried to coax a bit more out of the man, but when the tremors below them grew stronger, and the sounds of battle grew faint, her upperclassman got to his feet, almost gingerly. He tried to catch sight of Yu over the buildings that stood in between them; over the course of their battle, they had lost sight of the Pro Hero entirely.

"Leader?" she called out to him.

"Something's wrong," he said, his lips thinning into a line. Itsuka could see his grip tighten around the haft of his hammer. "I can't hear her anymore."

"Go," she said, without preamble. "I'll catch up."

It looked for a moment like Minato was about to rebuff her suggestion, but slowly, he nodded. "Let's stay within eyesight. If I'm engaging, back off unless I call you in." He gestured with his weapon. "It might get messy—like just now."

Itsuka blanched. She peered at the now ruined streets, the asphalt gouged and rent by the arcs of lightning her upperclassman had discharged from his hammer.

Right…

She didn't doubt that.

* * *

0.0

* * *

It hurt.

It hurt so much that Takeyama Yu didn't have a frame of reference to compare it to.

The sheer force of the blow exploded her senses in a flash of white. Her legs were the first to go, her strength leaving her entirely as it did. Reflex kicked in, and her hands flailed out to find purchase, at the roof of a small building; it stopped her from slumping lifelessly to the ground.

A hand dug into the folds of her hair, gripping it tight at the root, and slammed her face forward, into the building that had cushioned her fall. The impact rattled her brain, metal and glass cutting into her skin as her face was ground into it.

It was enough for her to lapse into unconsciousness for all but a second. However, that blissful relief did not come for her. Instead, she clung onto consciousness.

The blows didn't end.

Once. Twice. The hammering shots battered down upon her. She moaned in her throat and struggled to find her breath.

 _Stop._

One missed completely, catching her shoulders instead.

 _Stop._

As if angered by the miss, the next caught her flush on her injured eye. Fresh pain rippled behind it, the blinding agony freezing her features stiff in anguish.

 _Stop._

It felt like an eternity before it finally did.

Yu would have cried, just out of sheer relief, but she had no tears to give.

Regret filled her then and there.

She should have worked smarter. She should have done better. She… She couldn't let it end here.

She didn't want to die flat on her back.

Yu felt herself being dragged by her hair. Through the tiny slit in her good eye, swollen as it was, she saw Kugutsu's broad back pulling her forward like a disobedient dog on a leash. Yu gritted her teeth. Weakly, she mustered what remained of her strength and stretched her hand out at Kugutsu—wrapping it around his ankle.

He tried to shrug her off.

Her focus grew dim, narrowing, until it shifted at something far above her—at the darkening overcast clouds that loomed over the city; it hung in the air like a depressing veil.

A stray thought passed in her pain-addled mind.

The skies were clear not moments ago.

Kugutsu dominated her vision then as he turned to face her, his happy smile curling into a sad sneer. He raised one of his upper arms, where the mangled scraps of a bus was lodged firmly in his grip. He made the motion of bringing down upon her head, but something made him stop—a tiny figure walking towards them.

 _No…_

 **"D-Dummy,"** she cried. **"Run—a'way…"**

The last thing she heard before the darkness enveloped her was the meaty _'clang'_ of metal striking flesh.

* * *

0.0

* * *

 _He would save her._

Death would not come for her; he wouldn't allow it to.

His heart caught in his throat, but Arisato Minato swallowed that bitter lump, the muscles in his throat burning as he did. He tore his eyes away from the broken form of the woman and narrowed them at the blood-red jötunn that towered over him.

There was no malice in his heart for his adversary; it just needed to be stopped.

Minato braced his right shoulder with his hand, and held his arm out, calling the weapon back to him. It zipped back into his awaiting hand with a _'snap'_.

The jötunn had staggered wildly on its feet, not quite falling, but his attack had served its purpose. It had now turned its attention towards him and took its first steps forward, away from Yu. Its smile regressed into mock anguish.

So it wasn't enough.

More power then.

Subconsciously, his finger traced the grooves marked in the short haft.

Only those who were worthy could wield its power, but that power came at a price. His body was never meant to act as a vessel for their powers. There was a strain, both mentally and physically, that came with its use, and it was more keenly felt now in his current state than it ever had in his previous life.

Minato wouldn't shy away from it, however.

He had asked for the power to end this battle, and Thor had gifted him his weapon willingly. The longer he wielded the legendary hammer, the more its power bled into the surroundings, charging the still air with a muted hum.

 _Mjölnir._

 _Forged in the heart of a dying star._

 _The hammer of the gods._

 _The bringer of lightning and fury._

A damaged bus, with its front dented in and stained in blood, hurtled towards him. Just beyond it, Minato spied the jötunn's face split into a happy grin.

He didn't even blink.

 _More._

With Mjölnir in hand, Minato loosened his hold over the haft and hooked his fingers around the leather band, spinning it like a yo-yo. He built up the speed, the lightweight hammer becoming nothing more than a blur, and slung it forward.

The two objects collided. Mjölnir punched through the lesser steel, arresting the bus' momentum entirely as it fell to the earth. The hammer continued unimpeded.

It caught the jötunn by surprise. Two of its arms, one seemingly broken at the wrist, were raised over its stomach, and it caught the attack on its hastily-guarded mid-section. It doubled over, but refused to fall to its knees.

 _More._

Minato called his weapon back to him. He drew upon the lightning surging in his veins, the skin of his palm searing as his grip tightened painfully around the haft. As he threw the weapon forward once more, lightning arced from its wide metal head, gouging the asphalt beneath as it soared to connect against the giant's knee.

The jötunn swatted at Mjölnir, but all it did was shatter the bones in its hand. It let loose a silent howl as it cradled its now useless hand. Its anger didn't abate. That silent howl grew enraged. It reached for anything and everything in its path, and thrashed its surroundings with reckless abandon.

Minato did what he could to mitigate the damage.

 _More._

He laboured in his breaths. His right arm was trembling, his skin burnt raw and blistered. Still, that enormous power beckoned—lying just beyond his reach. Mjölnir thrummed in his hand, as if begging for release.

And he allowed it.

The power took on a life of its own.

The wind picked up, whistling in his ears. Far above him, the clouds rumbled, the dark shrouds coiling and writhing as faint flashes of lightning streaked across its impossible depths. There was no rain. Despite it, the clean smell of ozone lingered in his senses.

Minato raised Mjölnir aloft.

The build-up of power reached its zenith. Then, for a split second, everything stilled.

Before him, his enemy had been judged, the gavel raised to deliver its final sentence. He brought it down.

"Thunder Reign."

His vision exploded in white hot lightning.

* * *

0.0

* * *

Even as a brisk breeze blew in from the nearby bay, the smell of burnt flesh hung in the air like an ominous omen. Kendo Itsuka buried her nose in the crook of her arm, but it did little to deter the acrid stench assaulting her senses.

However, nothing was worse than having to stumble upon the still smouldering remains; it wasn't exactly hard to miss given how large it was. Her upperclassman's attack earlier had been cataclysmic in every sense of the word. She had been nearly blinded by the almighty flash that preceded its sheer destructive force, even at a distance. Hell, the ringing in her ears hadn't gone away, and it had been minutes since it happened.

But it certainly showed on its intended recipient.

"Oh God," she gagged.

Her steps were brisk as she walked around its still twitching mass. The burns across its body were deep, charring the blood red flesh black—almost like it were leather instead of skin. Whether he was alive or dead, she wasn't sure, but that wasn't why she was here.

Beyond it, she spied two familiar figures huddled close together. Throwing any sort of heroic pretense to the wind, she scrambled forward on uneven footing.

Her throat was tight. Unbidden tears welled up at her eyes, and she tried, in vain, to keep her wits about her; that was the last thing they needed. Her voice came out as nothing but a whisper:

"S-Senpai? Yu?"

Yu was laid flat on her back, her broken body listless and unresponsive. The woman was cradled in the arms of her upperclassman. One of those arms, Itsuka noticed, was nothing more than a blackened husk dangling limply by his side. A faint glow seemed to envelop the other as it was pressed against Yu's forehead.

Head bowed, Minato was similarly unresponsive. Although, she could see that his breathing was visibly laboured.

Itsuka sunk to her knees before them. She reached a hand out, but stopped herself. She couldn't help it. Even the slightest touch seemed lethal given how fragile they looked.

"Senpai?"

Dull blue eyes peered up at her beneath his now unkempt fringe. Minato brought his head up and blinked a few times.

"Senpai?!" she repeated. "Are you all right?"

He motioned to his ear with his a nudge of shoulder. "I can't hear… that well," he said, his breaths coming out short and sharp. "You need to… flag down the responders. She's stable, but we shouldn't take… any chances."

Itsuka could only nod dumbly to his request, unintentionally tittering at the sheer absurdity of having her emotions spring back and forth like a yo-yo. She rubbed at her eyes as she stood up. "Y-Yeah." This time she shouted, more for his benefit, "Hold on! I'll be right back!"

As Itsuka set about trying to get the attention of the emergency responders, she inwardly wondered if the rest of the third-year students in UA were anything like her upperclassman.

She shuddered.

That… was a scary thought.

* * *

0.0

* * *

It was a strange thing, Hachisuka Kuin realised.

Could a door be a cliché?

Well, whatever… This one was.

Tall and imposing, the stainless steel door that stood before her was bare save for a rectangular slot at eye-level. It was even situated at the end of a long, winding alley—complete with those miserable little steps that was supposed to lead down to a basement, but was only three steps tall.

Kuin didn't have to knock. The eye slot slid open the moment she arrived, revealing the shadowed, bespectacled eyes of Giran, her information broker. The man was a serial over-achiever, having gained some serious clout despite working alone, without any backing, since his first foray in the underworld.

If there ever was a person that was married to his job, it'd be him; it was one of the few things she admired about him.

"You look like shit, kid," Giran told her. "Whadd'ya want?"

"Shelter." Kuin shrugged. "Supplies. Usual stuff."

His beady eyes narrowed down at her. "Not a smart move to come here," he said. "I've seen the news. I've read the reports. The wrong people will be looking for you. There's some pretty serious heat on your back after that stunt you pulled."

Kuin smiled lightly. "Don't let your paranoia get in the way of business, Giran. You talk as if they have my face plastered out there for the whole country to see." Her smile tightened. "They don't, do they? Even then, I find it highly unlikely that they could tie any of what happened today to me. It's circumstantial, at best."

"The noose is tightening. Why else would you see a need to come to me right now? You're out of options, Queen."

"Out of options? Hardly," she said, scoffing. "I merely went to the best one."

Even with the door in the way, Kuin could sense the smug smile stretching across his features; it was one she mirrored.

"Honestly forgot about that mouth of yours," Giran said. "Could probably charm the pants off a—"

"What'cha doing?"

The voice she heard was muffled, but it did little to detract from just how young the voice at the other side of the door sounded.

Giran looked away for a moment. "Not right now. Just taking care of something. Go back to the hall."

"Who are ya talking to? Lemme see!"

Giran moved away from his post. There was some minor scuffling in the background, and more hushed whispers courtesy of Giran. The other voice however, one Giran had let slip as 'Toga', wasn't as amenable.

Kuin heard a very loud gasp. "There's someone new?"

"You know, Giran," Kuin called out. "No judgement from me if you're keeping some drug-addled JK sex slave in your uh, pleasure dungeon. It's not my style to shame people on their kinks—no matter how disgusting it is!"

"It ain't like that!"

The other voice laughed brightly. "You're funny!"

It was then Kuin caught her first peek at the speaker. Through the narrow slot, she saw a mess of ash blonde hair tied into two messy buns. Her eyes, yellow and slitted, then came into view. The girl smiled, widening to the point that it was almost unnatural, predatory even, considering her pronounced canines.

"Hey! My name is Toga Himiko! Will you be my friend?"

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Ace of Swords…_

* * *

 _ **Side Note(s):** I'd like to thank NonBenevolentPotato for his help in this chapter. Props to him for being kind enough to help with the story. Be nice and slide some appreciation his way._

 _ _I've taken some creative liberties to de-gamefy aspects of the Persona skills to try and keep it more grounded in the MHA-verse. Essentially, I've removed the buff/debuff skill tree, and like what you've read in this chapter, these are being shifted to replace the instant-kill mechanics of both the Light and Dark skill tree.__

* * *

 _ **Extra (A): And now, a Fuji-Q News Breaking Bulletin**_ **…**

* * *

"Rina! Twenty seconds to air!" a stage crew shouted.

Kadokawa Rina, dressed sharply in a form-fitting dress, stood before a large monitor; a display graphic, showing the network's logo, dominated the screen. She smoothed the front of her dress and took a deep breath. Quietly, to herself, Rina practised enunciating her words.

"Five! Four! Three!" The stage crew then mimed silently with his fingers.

Two.

One.

The woman bowed.

"For those joining us now, a Mass Trigger Incident in Odaiba has left dozens wounded and at least three dead. The NPA has not released an official statement, but sources have indicated that a police investigation was being conducted in the area prior to the incident. It is not yet known if the mastermind behind this string of Trigger-related incidents has been arrested. However, footage has shown uniformed personnel escorting this individual—"

The monitor behind her then showed a close-up photo of Kugutsu Mario.

"—Kugutsu Mario, into custody. Kugutsu is a known element within the Trigger distribution ring, and was reportedly the gigantified 'forced-villain' who terrorised the waterfront district earlier today. In a Fuji-Q News exclusive, we have obtained footage of the devastating battle that occurred between Kugutsu and the Pro Hero: Mount Lady, as well as members from her agency. We must warn you that the footage is graphic in nature. Viewer discretion is advised."

Rina held her gaze at the camera for a few more seconds before the all-clear sign was given. She slowly let out a breath.

"Two minutes until we return!"

"Tanaka!" She motioned to one of the newer associate producers. "Any leads on Mount Lady's condition? That footage was rough; it's possible she may not make it through. We need to stay ahead of this."

"The Pro Hero Gazette is reporting that she died during surgery," the man said, shaking his head. "It's a shit-rag e-news outlet that barely has any presence, so their credibility is suspect. So far, none of the other networks are biting, but one of them might go for it."

"Which hospital?" she asked. "The nearest one in Odaiba would be Hosu General, right? Isn't Shigeo's wife a radiologist there? Call him in and push him for an update. We need to be the first network to report it live if she does bite the bullet. Tell the graphics team to prepare Mount Lady's obituary first. It doesn't have to be sombre; maybe something controversial to whet the appetite. She doesn't have the best image, so play along that line."

"They already preloaded a highlight reel of her… 'less-than-stellar' moments. We could run it within twenty once we get approval from the higher-ups." Tanaka was hesitant, quietly wringing his hands. "This could get seriously vetoed. That woman saved a lot of lives doing what she did. It's not right to tarnish her bravery."

Rina shook her head. "You're new. You're idealistic. I get that. I was once like you. But Mount Lady's a Pro Hero; it's her job to save lives. It's ours to frame the narrative. Drama sells better because it stays long in the memory. An inspirational piece is fluffy and light; it's nice but no one remembers nice. That stuff gets shot out the window the next time All Might so much as farts out a rainbow.

"I don't wish her any ill-will, Tanaka, but it is how it is; I didn't write the rules, but I will bend them to get ahead. So if we want to be the number one television news broadcast in the country, then you better get on that phone and get me some goddamn confirmation!"

"O-Okay!" Tanaka said, scurrying towards the exit.

"Rina! Another twenty seconds to air!"

Rina snapped her fingers at Tanaka, signalling him back. "And another thing! Get me the hero name of the crazy kid with the lightning Quirk! You know, the one with the hammer! He could be huge for us! We can run a parallel—a phoenix rising from the ashes of his mentor's death! People will eat that up!"

"We already know his hero name! It's—"

His reply was drowned out by one of the stage crew. "Five! Four! Three!"

"What a ridiculous name…" Rina hid a grimace and forced her features neutral just as they returned to air. "What an absolutely horrendous thing to witness on what would have been the the platinum jubilee celebration since the groundbreaking of the Odaiba Island reclamation project. And now, we are joined by our special correspondent…"

* * *

 _ **Extra (B):**_ ** _And so, Yaoyorozu Momo tries to master her puppets…_**

* * *

"Jeez, you're such a baby…"

As the thunderous wail of guitar riffs and rhythmic drum beats resounded around her, Yaoyorozu Momo, laid flat on her stomach atop Jiro's bed, scrunched her nose. "Why do they always have such violent lyrics?" she asked. "It's needlessly graphic—singing about pushing fingers into their eyes… Who even does that?"

Jiro stood up from her chair, not missing a beat as her deft fingers plucked lightly at her bass guitar; the girl rocked on the balls of her feet as she ambled around the room, like a performer on stage. "It's cathartic," she said, almost like an afterthought. "Heavy metal doesn't shy away from talking about the darker, more depressing things in life. It's primal. It's universal. It's also wish-fulfilment. You're right… No one in their right mind would ever do that, but it allows people to find an escape and process those negative emotions in a healthier way." She shrugged her shoulders. "At least, that's what I think."

"That is a very well thought-out and insightful answer, Kyouka-chan."

Jiro mimed sipping tea with a pinky held out, smirking. "Thank you, ojou-sama," she said, with an exaggerated accent.

Momo reddened and buried the lower-half of her face into her pillow. "I-I'll work on that."

"Oh, man! I wish I got that on video!" Jiro bellowed a hearty laugh and wiped a tear from her eye. "Don't ever change, Yaomomo; all of that is what makes you _you_. Heck, half the guys in our year would probably kill me if that ever happened."

Momo blinked. "Excuse me?"

Jiro waved her away. "Nothing~~" she said, in that tone that meant exactly the opposite. "Oh, oh, listen to this part right here! The lead singer absolutely slays it!"

The girl nodded along to the beat and sang lowly under her breath. Momo found herself doing the same, minus the singing.

"I must admit that his vocal colour and range is nothing short of extraordinary."

"People think that just because it's heavy metal, it's a butt-load of screaming and growling, but that's such a bad stereotype. These singers are legit at the top rung of the ladder in terms of talent." Jiro rolled her eyes, adding, "They're nothing like those mainstream 'Top Forty Hits' crowd."

"Is that so?"

"Lend me your phone," Jiro said. "You should see them do a live-set. There's a bunch of videos of them on UwUTube. If you think their music is wild, wait till you see how they're like in real life. They wear these really ghoulish villain get-ups and just go nuts on stage. It's intense."

Unconsciously, her grip on her phone tightened and Momo clutched it against her chest. "Why can't you use yours?" she asked, with narrowed eyes.

"Because it's still charging?" Jiro motioned to the outlet all the way at the other end of the room. "My cable isn't that long. Would you rather the two of us go over there and watch it on my phone?" She kept blinking, as if in a daze. "Does that somehow make more sense to you?"

"N-No…"

Reluctantly, Momo unlocked her phone and passed it to Jiro.

It was at that time that she heard a knock on Jiro's door, followed by a muffled voice, "Oi, Kyouka~~ I can hear your terrible music from upstairs. Is Yaomomo in there with you? I can't find her anywhere."

"We're in here!" Jiro said lazily, her eyes glued on the phone. "Come in!"

Mina popped her head in, but she faced the ceiling to prevent her facial sheet mask from drooping down her face. Dressed simply in her casual nightwear, Mina threw a slim white foil pouch at the two of them before squeezing herself on the bed next to Momo, lifeless.

Momo flipped it to the front cover. It was a branded facial sheet mask; the same one Mina was using.

"Thank you, Ashido," Momo said.

"Remember that Pinky giveth, but Pinky can also taketh away." Mina groaned aloud. "Ughhh, it's so boring without the other girls here. What have you two been up to?"

"Corrupting Yaomomo with devil music," Jiro said.

"This is hardly corrupting," Momo said. "I was merely trying to broaden my musical palette."

Momo was summarily ignored as Mina shook her head. "Devil music sucks. Put on something new, will you? Corrupt her with some EDM or R&B instead. We can have a mini-party in this hizzouse."

Jiro looked up and cocked an eyebrow at Mina. "If you keep throwing dumb acronyms at me, I'll kick you out of my room."

"Ass!" Mina growled, "Pinky taketh away!"

Momo yelped as Mina rolled on top of her to grab at the facial mask she had given Jiro. She couldn't see much on account of having her face smushed into her pillow, but part-way through, Mina seemed content with her position atop her. Instead, the girl started tickling her sides.

Giggling uncontrollably, Momo shrieked, "A-Ashido! Get off me t-this instant!"

"Gah! My face mask!"

Mina's water-based mask peeled away from all the rough-housing and flopped uselessly to the ground with a wet 'splat'. When she reached over the bed to get it, Momo was able to leverage her position to trap Mina's shoulder joint under her body with some careful manoeuvring. Momo returned the favour.

"Gah! Ref! Ref!" Mina yelled at Jiro, laughing. "I can't tap! I'm out! I'm out!"

Jiro grinned down at Mina. "You're nothing without the brain, huh Pinky?" She snorted at her own joke. "Then again, isn't it—" Momo's phone beeped a fanciful tune, and Jiro's look of surprise morphed into a devilish one.

Momo abandoned her advantage and threw her hands out at Jiro. "Give that back!"

Jiro stepped out of reach, putting the phone above her head. "Oh? What's this?" she drew her words slyly. "A text? From Minato-senpai?"

Mina gasped loudly. "Snap! She's messaging the Todoroki-clone?! Lemme see!" Untangling herself from Momo, she jumped to her feet and hovered behind Jiro, trying to peek at the screen over her shoulder.

"Kyouka-chan! Ashido! That's private!"

Jiro had the decency to look ashamed. She locked the phone and handed it back to Momo. "Sorry, Yaomomo. I didn't read it or anything; was just messing around." She nudged Mina away and motioned pointedly to Momo with her eyes.

"Uh, yeah," Mina said. "Sorry, Yaomomo. Got real curious, is'all. I mean, did you see the viral videos about him in that fight at Odaiba? Can't believe he's the same guy who had remedial training with us."

"It's fine," Momo said. "Thank you for respecting my privacy, you two."

She sighed and checked her unread messages.

 ** _Minato-senpai:_** _Location pinned: Hosu General Hospital_

 _ ** _Minato-senpai:_** Mount Lady's fine. __Injured my arm, but it's nothing to worry about._

 ** _Me:_** _What a coincidence!_

 _ ** _Me:_** Nejire-senpai and I will be at Hosu General tomorrow. __It's part of Ryukyu-sama's community outreach programme._

 ** _Minato-senpai:_** _Is that so?_ _If you can spare the time, you should come visit._

 _ ** _Minato-senpai:_** Building C, Ward 57._

 _ ** _Minato-senpai:_** Hope to see you tomorrow._

 ** _Me:_** _Typing…_

Her phone was slapped out of her hands. Momo looked up at the culprit, a certain pink-haired classmate, mortified.

"Ashido!"

"Ah, sorry, sorry, Yaomomo." Mina ducked her head down and clapped her hands together, pleading for her forgiveness. "I know you just thanked us for respecting your privacy, but I couldn't let you make such a rookie mistake; if you send the last text in a convo, he's gonna win that battle. Besides, you gotta make it look like you're not just waiting around for his texts. It makes you seem desperate."

Momo did her best imitation of a fish out of water. "W-What?!" She turned to Jiro for support.

Jiro shook her head, her features dearth. "What are you looking at me for?"

Mina held up a finger, explaining, "Guys like the thrill of the chase. If you make it too easy for them, they'll just get bored and find some other girl. It's true! I read it online!"

"Because you should trust everything you read online, right?" Jiro said dryly.

Momo reddened. "Awawawa! W-Why are you telling me this? I already told you that Minato-senpai and I are just friends! We're not interested in each other that way!"

Mina and Jiro shared a look.

"You got it bad, girl," Jiro said.

"Yeah, you're not really fooling anyone here, Yaomomo," Mina said. "I mean, the two of us will do what we can to help, but most of it is on you. The best part of all of this is that a '1v1' hospital visit will net you a lot of points! If shōjo manga has taught me anything, what you need is a really, really great gift; one that's personal and—"

"You two are clearly delusional…" Shaking her head, Momo stood up and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm tired. Excuse me, I wish to retire to my quarters."

"Yaomomo! Don't be stupid! I'm a goldmine of knowledge when it comes to love! Yaomomo?! Yaomomo! Don't ignore me, dammit!"


	9. IX

_**Disclaimer:** The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi._

 _ **Author's Notes:** There was a late addition to the last chapter! Apologies for the kerfuffle! If you go back right to the end of Chapter VIII, you'll be able to catch a fun extra scene with Momo, Jiro and Mina. Be sure to double back if you've missed it!_

* * *

0.0

* * *

"I can tell you all now that his hearing is perfectly fine."

Seated upright on his hospital bed, Arisato Minato winced, then stared pointedly at the man rifling through his medical records. A cushion was flung at his face, one which he instinctively tried to block with his bandaged right arm. He could only manage a twitch of his finger, which was why he got a face full of cushion.

"I would like to be transferred to another ward, please," Minato said, blinking.

"I knew it!" Yu hissed through clenched teeth, "I knew you could hear us this whole time!"

His fellow patient was in a similar position. Seated to his right, Yu was bandaged heavily from the neck up, and had been put in a neck brace, restricting her movement. A medical patch covered her left eye, and it left the other free to glare at him.

She had spent the last day or so in a dead sleep; it was possible that the combination of her accumulated stress and exhaustion, and having her body subjected to the potent after-effects of _Dia_ contributed to that. There was something to be said about her resilience to bounce back so quickly. However, it meant that the peace he once enjoyed was now a distant memory…

Itsuka got in between them, fruit knife held threateningly in one hand, and in the other, a half-peeled apple. "Are we seriously starting this again?!"

"I didn't start anything."

Yu sniffed at her youngest charge. "You've changed, Itsuka. Whatever happened to that sweet girl that first showed up at our agency? All you do is yell at us now."

"With a knife," Minato added.

With a shuddering breath, the only healthy member of their agency returned to her seat. "I don't know why I even bother." Itsuka continued muttering lowly as she resumed her apple-peeling duties.

Kayama, having been a silent bystander since the start of his examination, started to clap. "Isn't this a textbook example of a dysfunctional relationship?" She sat on his bed and regarded the doctor. "Miura-sensei, could you continue your diagnosis? I'm afraid I can't stay long. You see, my errant student has left me in a burdensome position of having to deal with the repercussions of his actions."

Minato feigned a weak groan and mumbled, "Migraine…"

Leaning fully into his pillow and away from his homeroom teacher, his attempt to adjust his hospital bed back to its horizontal position was foiled when Kayama squeezed his hand, the good one, in her vice-like grip.

"Y-You're hurting me."

"None of that now, slave." Kayama levelled a look at him before smiling daintily at the doctor. "If you don't mind, sensei."

"Spleesh," he heard Yu mutter. "And you call us dysfunctional."

"Yes, well…" Miura, a portly and affable man who was getting on in years, cleared his throat. "As I was saying, aside from his temporary hearing loss, Arisato-san is also suffering from severe Quirk exhaustion. One, which we believe, is tied to his migraine attacks."

"Is that true, Arisato-kun?" Kayama asked.

"It comes and goes."

"As for his right arm, the damage done to the muscle tissue and bone is… extensive. Our tests revealed that his nerve endings were completely destroyed. It was beyond saving. Given the severity, we would have proceeded with amputation—"

"W-Wait!" Itsuka stood up hastily, apple and fruit knife forgotten. "There's no way that—"

In the middle of it all, Minato noticed how Yu straightened in her seat, her jaw set, as she stared dead ahead; it was as if she was trying to bore in the opposite wall with her lone eye.

"Kendo," Kayama said, silencing her.

"I apologise. The fault lies with me." The doctor held his hands up. "I was perhaps a bit misleading, but please allow me to finish. As I've said, we _would_ have proceeded with amputation, had Arisato-san not made it known to the team that he also has a regeneration Quirk.

"To give a little background, we've performed several biopsies during which Arisato-san attempted to heal his arm in a controlled setting. It is a Quirk that can be a double-edged sword. Our tests have revealed that overusing it is not only detrimental, but will likely have an irreversible impact on his health. There is a very technical aspect as to the nature of his regeneration, but to put it simply, what Arisato-san is doing is appropriating his stamina to forcibly jump-start the body's natural healing process."

"How does that _really_ work, Minato?" Yu asked suddenly. She turned to him, saying, "Because it sounds like he's saying that you're somehow killing yourself by using your Quirk. You are, aren't you? That's why you burned your arm off with that lightning bit."

"I may have… overextended myself," Minato said, grimacing. "But that's just how my powers are right now. I'm sorry that I made you worry. I'll manage myself better in the future." He tugged the bandage back and allowed the room to see the unblemished skin beneath it. "It's healed. I just can't move it that well yet."

Miura sighed heavily, but a satisfied smile did grace his lips. "I concur. There has been a tremendous improvement in his condition. Arisato-san will recover fully, granted that he gets adequate rest."

Itsuka was the first to react. "Well, that was a roller coaster ride of emotions… But I'm glad you're going to be all right, senpai." She turned to Yu, hesitant. "Right, Yu?"

There was an inscrutable look that briefly came over the woman's features before she nodded. "It's Minato," Yu said, grinning tightly. "You gotta learn to expect the unexpected with him."

That gave him pause.

Sadly, Minato didn't have time to contemplate it because his homeroom teacher, in a rare moment of brevity, stood up from his bed and bowed to Miura. "It is only thanks to the efforts of you and your team, Miura-sensei. On behalf of UA, we appreciate everything that you've done for our student. You have our sincerest gratitude."

Miura returned the bow, and offered a deeper one to the rest of the room. "I would be remiss if I didn't give my thanks to the three of you as well. Your actions saved a lot of lives in Odaiba yesterday. Were it not for you, our doors would have welcomed more dead amongst the casualties. Instead, you've given us the opportunity to treat them for the better. For that, we thank you, dear heroes."

The sincerity in the man's eyes was unmistakable.

"You are too kind, Miura-sensei," Minato said.

Itsuka had her head bowed. "We only did what we could."

"The two of you should be proud of yourselves," Kayama said. "You displayed maturity beyond your years, and performed above and beyond—despite insurmountable odds. There are many out there who owe you their lives."

Itsuka looked up and share a small smile with him, her blue eyes misty with unshed tears. A pillow was tossed in her lap, courtesy of Yu, which she slowly embraced. "Ugh, sorry," she said, sniffing. "Roller coasters…"

Yu gamely shuffled herself over to the foot of the bed to rub Itsuka's back. "You don't have to keep it in, Minato," she told him. "What are you? A robot?"

Minato rolled his eyes at her.

Miura chuckled. "You have such remarkable students, Midnight. I feel assured knowing that our future is in safe hands."

"I can't take any of the credit, Miura-sensei. They came like that." Kayama then levelled a sympathetic look at Minato and Yu. "Unfortunately, it's time I burst your bubble. I've been told that Takeyama-san and yourself will continue to be under observation here for the next few days. The boring part comes after. The three of you will have to attend UA's internal review, as well as external ones—PSC, NPA, and other 'acronymed' entities that I can't bear to mention."

Yu groaned and flopped back down on her bed. She slung an arm over her eyes. "Would it work if I said that I have amnesia on account of having my head knocked around by a giant bigger than me?"

Itsuka scowled. "Don't joke about that when you're wearing… _that_." She motioned to Yu's neck brace.

Yu fiddled with her brace and laughed weakly. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Bad joke. But I'm fine—perfectly fine. Ain't that right, doc?"

"Yes, she is," Miura conceded. "Takeyama-san is incredibly fortunate. At best, she has a minor concussion, in addition to the light scarring she's sustained to her left cornea. Both will heal fairly quickly." The doctor rubbed his chin, appearing pensive. "We can't quite explain it. Her CT scan showed that there was evidence of intracranial trauma, but miraculously, her injuries seemed to have healed on its own."

"Oh," Minato said. "That was me."

He could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence.

"You're able to heal others?" Miura asked. "I assumed when you said that you could heal yourself, it was a self-regeneration Quirk."

Minato shrugged.

"Absolutely remarkable…"

Kayama blinked, and said, "Yes. Aren't you just full of surprises today, Arisato-kun? Your Quirk is obviously something we need to discuss with you in further detail. Once you've been dischar—"

As it was, the door to their ward slid open, revealing a bubbly Nejire as her costumed alter ego. "Arisato~~" she cheered lowly, perhaps mindful of the fact that she was in a hospital. "Everyone in class got together and made you this! It's our traditional 'Get Well Now! Now! Now!' gift basket!"

She held up an amateurish-looking gift basket, complete with a lop-sided bow; it contained a literal hodgepodge of sweets and chocolate, and nothing else.

The moment Nejire stepped in, she must have sensed the awkwardness in the room. Of course, it didn't mean that she cared. "Ehhh~~ The old hag is here. And Itsuka-chan!" Her elation dimmed when she looked behind her, towards the open doorway, in apparent confusion. "Momo-chi? Where are you? I need to introduce you to your rival!"

Minato got his first look at his underclassman when she peeked her head through the doorway, her face red in embarrassment. "R-R-Rival?! Nejire-senpai! Please stop saying such embarrassing things! People may get the wrong idea!"

Nejire quirked her head to one side. "Why are you hiding?"

"I-I'm not."

Peer-pressured into submission, the rest of Momo's frame finally came into view.

Much like his class representative, Momo had brought him a gift—hers being a teddy bear. It had the same scarf she had made for him wrapped around its neck, as well as 'Get Well Soon' balloon tied around its body. Momo had even made him a replacement bokken; the weapon was cradled between the bear's stubby arms and feet.

"Momo-chi!" Nejire dragged her forward and held out her hand at Itsuka. "From today onwards, Itsuka-chan will be your rival!"

"Nejire-senpai!"

Itsuka looked around. "What… even is happening?"

"I don't know," Yu said, phone in hand as she pointed it around the room. "But it's amazing."

"This is some serious nightmare fuel," Itsuka muttered.

Undeterred, Nejire clapped her hands excitedly. "Ne, ne, since Arisato and I are the only ones in our class that have UA underclassmen interning in the same agency, it makes sense for the two of you to engage in some healthy competition, don't you think?" She turned to Minato, leaning over his bed to stare into his face. "Don't you think so~~?"

Minato feigned a groan.

"Migraine…"

He tried to pull his blanket over his head, but was stopped short when Kayama tugged it back.

"Now, now, Arisato-kun," Kayama said, impish. "Quite the harem you've got here. Why don't you be a good little host and play nice? Miura-sensei and I will see ourselves out. Unless, of course…" She wiggled her delicate eyebrows suggestively.

Minato glared at her. "How is someone like you even allowed to teach?"

* * *

0.0

* * *

The abandoned bar was dark, empty. Shigaraki Tomura sat alone at the counter. The only thing to keep him company was the harsh glare of the television screen situated above him; it was a news broadcast about the recent Mass Trigger Incident at Odaiba. He mashed a finger down on the TV remote as the broadcast gave way to something else.

"Trigger…"

An aerial shot of the waterfront district was shown, highlighting the damages sustained to the area. The rampage wrought by the 'forced-villians' was significant, as was the loss of life.

"Trigger…"

On-scene correspondents were interviewing eye-witnesses. The portraits they painted were grim, the ordeal made personal, as survivors recounted their experiences as the disaster unfolded.

"Trigger…"

Newscasters detailed the profiles of the Pro Heroes involved in the incident. They created mock timelines and poured over the Pro Heroes' actions or lack thereof with a blow-by-blow account.

"Trigger…"

There were more talking heads; this time discussing the incident that had occurred two weeks back, during the Mass Trigger Incident at UA's Sports Festival.

Cocking his arm back, Tomura heaved the TV remote at the television.

"Why is it always about some fucking useless NPC on Trigger killing fucking NPCs?!"

The computer monitor at the end of the counter switched on by itself, revealing a static black wallpaper. The disembodied voice of his sensei, low and metallic, came through the speakers, "This is the age of the modern news cycle, Tomura. Infamy is only relevant if it's current."

Tomura leaned his head sideways to stare at the monitor. "Then lend me some toys, sensei… All these Trigger incidents are annoying to watch. I'll be sure to leave a mark ugly enough that the entire country won't soon forget."

"Oh? What is it that you intend to do?"

Languidly, Tomura lolled his head forward and reached for the crumpled newspaper clipping on the counter. Deft fingers teased it open before he held it out in front of the monitor. It was an article about their altercation with All Might during the USJ Incident. There was a picture; a stock photo of All Might beaming brightly into the camera.

"The boy," Tomura said. "I'll destroy the Midoriya boy. I'll destroy All Might. I'll destroy 'em all." He started laughing. "I'll make sure they'll never know what it means to be safe again."

"There is plenty to admire about your spirit," All For One said. "But your approach must be more… _feasible_. Another direct attack against UA will be nigh impossible given the circumstances. You are bereft of allies, Tomura."

"So? Get Kurogiri to find more of 'em. There's plenty of NPCs out—"

"Allies, Tomura—worthy ones to stand at your side; not mere cannon fodder. I've already instructed Kurogiri to contact someone who may be suited to the task. Kurogiri expects our guest to arrive by the evening. He's an interesting one. Calls himself the Hero Killer—Stain."

Tomura crushed the newspaper clipping into a ball and flicked it away. "Feh, shit-stain more like… What's the point anyway? The Nomus are plenty strong. Just give me an army of 'em and I'll be set."

"Those creatures are simple beings. They cannot think; they have no free will."

Tomura spun in his seat, turning his back to the monitor. A sneer came over his lips. "You could just hack them; put in a GameShark cartridge," he muttered. "Ain't the doctor some kinda super genius hacker-man?"

"Daruma-sensei is a brilliant man. He does not take failure lightly. In fact, this Trigger epidemic has inspired him. I dare say the next iteration of Nomus will be a considerable upgrade over its predecessors."

"Great… Give me ten of 'em."

All For One was quiet. "Meet with Stain, Tomura. No matter the outcome of your meeting, I will do my utmost to lend you my aid." With little fanfare, the link was shut down, and the monitor turned dormant.

Alone once more, Tomura stared up at the ceiling.

"Fuck." He reached under his shirt and scratched his stomach. "I'm hungry…"

* * *

0.0

* * *

"The police have taken Kugutsu into custody alive, young master."

Chisaki Kai closed his eyes and tried not to imagine it. It was hard not to, however; the man standing before him wouldn't stop talking.

The human mouth contained hundreds of different strains of bacteria, but the actual bacteria present could number in the millions, billions even. The longer one talked, the greater the microscopic droplets of saliva that propagated in the air. Once airborne, the bacteria present could survive for hours.

That was why he wore a mask. That was why everyone in his organisation wore a mask. They weren't allowed to remove it within the compound, much less in his presence; he refused to breathe in the same air as them.

"Hachisuka has failed," Nemoto continued. "I suspect that her identity has been compromised. I have taken the appropriate measures to distance ourselves from her activities. A bounty has been placed on her—"

Sitting forward in his seat, Kai leaned his elbows on his knees and levelled a baleful glare at his subordinate. He directed it at the others stood before him in his office—the masked members of the Teppōdama Hassaishū. His most trusted lieutenants, Kurono and Irinaka, were flanked on either side of him.

Despite the elongated plague doctor mask that covered the lower half of his face, Kai's voice rang out clearly, "Do you speak for me, Nemoto?" His tone was flat.

Nemoto ducked his gaze towards the floor. "I would never presume to, young master."

Kai could see Nemoto's breath quicken, his chest rising and falling faster as the lingering silence persisted. "Yet, you behave otherwise," he said finally. "Who gave you instructions to act without my approval? I did not ask for her to be removed."

"She may have been compromised, young master. We cannot allow her to be taken into custody—not when she's seen your face. I was only ever thinking of the safety of our clan. A single misstep could derail the success of your vision."

"I never said that the girl has outlived her purpose; she remains our most valuable asset in propagating this Trigger epidemic."

Kendo Rappa, a large and imposing man, sauntered to the edge of his desk and leaned against it. He wore a mask that was not dissimilar to the rest of the Teppōdama Hassaishū, albeit his only extended to the crown of his head, which allowed his long orange hair to reach down to his shoulders. His hand, wrapped in a modified knuckle-duster that extended to his forearm, mimed a yapping mouth.

"Not that I care, but why the fuck are you getting your panties in a twist, 'Overhole'? Is this really why you called us all here? To bitch about this shit-for-brains putting a hit on your precious pre-teen?"

"You will hold your tongue, Rappa," Irinaka growled. "Or risk losing it."

Rappa stepped forward, spreading his arms wide. "About time you did something about it, Irina—"

"Stop."

It spoke to the measure of his strength that everyone in the room stilled; he could even sense a few holding their breaths. Kai stood up.

"Do you know why we started mass-producing Trigger?" he asked Rappa.

"Money?"

"In part. There is a greater objective at play here; one that will help eradicate the plague that has consumed our world."

Rappa snorted. "Right… Having a Quirk is a disease. Mighty hypocritical if you ask me when you're lording over all of us with that Quirk of yours, Overhaul. It kinda begs the question why we're even peddling this shit in the first place. Aren't you just making the world more…" the man paused, flaring his nostrils through his mask, "more… _diseased_?"

"Haven't you heard of a vaccine before?" Kurono asked flatly.

"What?! Course I heard of it! That shit makes kids dumb! It poisons their brains!"

"A vaccine, Rappa, carries an agent," Kai said, ignoring his outburst. "It stimulates the body's immune system to recognise it as a threat to be destroyed. Once it does, anything that vaguely resembles that agent will be destroyed. Do you see the parallel now? The Trigger is our agent, and the public, our immune system. That is why we need this Trigger epidemic to reach its tipping point; to aggravate a sickness that is as commonplace as a fever into a flesh-eating virus. Only then will the vaccine truly take effect."

He pulled a small vial from his jacket and held it out between his fingers. "We've only taken a small step to realise our vision. I've gone to great lengths to produce just a single drop of this—an elixir capable of eliminating the genetic mutation inside our DNA. As public sentiment shifts against the grain, that is when we introduce our silver bullet."

Kurono tapped the side of his head. "While the rest of the sheeple are stuck thinking on their next move, boss is playing three-dimensional shogi, and is already holding their king in check."

"I am under no illusion as to the enormity of our undertaking," Kai continued, depositing his life's work back into his pocket. "But great deeds are rarely simple. To begin anew, we must first destroy the decaying foundations of our society and build new ones—better ones."

Rappa was quiet. "You'd do all of that just so you could restore your clan to its former glory?" He folded his arms and scoffed. "You're a fucking loony. I can't believe I actually stood there and listened to all that crap."

Kai quirked his head to one side. "You're right," he said. "Talk is cheap."

Quick as a whip, Kai turned on his heel and thrust his hand out at Nemoto's neck. His wrath channelled through his body, the warmth leaving him momentarily, as it flowed into his target. The effects were instantaneous. Time seemingly froze around him. In one moment, Nemoto's entire being violently exploded in a gush of blood and sinew, and the next, Nemoto was whole again.

Nemoto let out a sharp breath and sunk to his hands and knees, shivering madly.

Kai stared down at him. "I do not wish to defile the sterility of my office with your remains. Were it not for that fact alone, you would have truly been nothing more than a stain on the ground. Do not try my patience, Nemoto."

"Y-Young… master…"

"Get up. I've seen a child fare better than you." When Nemoto remained kneeled, he motioned to Irinaka to step in. "Take him away. Make sure that he is adequately punished, Irinaka."

His underling bowed lowly. "We will proceed with yubitsume, master."

"Don't stop at one. Shorten all the fingers on his left hand."

Irinaka nodded. "Should I return with the offerings?"

"What use would I have with severed fingers?" Kai asked. "You may allow him to keep it. It will serve as a reminder that he is not above reproach—no matter his contributions to the clan."

"Understood."

"Soramitsu," Kai called out.

Soramitsu Tabe, a frail man with hunched shoulders, stepped forward. He wore a dirty burlap sack for a mask, secured firmly by a grimy rope fastened around his neck. Through the frayed and uneven holes in his mask, Soramitsu's eyes were haggard and red-rimmed.

"Y-Yes, O-Overhaul-sama?"

"See to it that you personally dispose of Hachisuka Kuin. We cannot allow the Shie Hassaikai to be seen as weak by rescinding her bounty. If that girl was half as smart as she acted, then she would have gone underground the moment Nemoto placed that bounty on her head. You will need to root her out."

Soramitsu's eyes widened. When he spoke, his words were slurred, as if he was salivating too much, "D-Do I… S-Should I…"

There wasn't a need for Soramitsu to finish his sentence for Kai to infer his request. The man was a deviant amongst deviants. If there ever was a proponent for the adverse effects of the Quirk mutation on the human psyche, then Soramitsu would be propped up as a prime example.

The man _craved_ flesh.

"Do as you wish, Soramitsu."

* * *

0.0

* * *

It was honestly disconcerting. Somewhere behind her, beyond the four walls of the dingy bathroom she was currently occupying, Hachisuka Kuin heard her own voice drone loudly:

 _"Bored…"_

Kuin methodically patted down her newly-coloured hair with a towel and took a good long look in the mirror in front of her. Black suited her well enough, less than her natural colour, but those were the breaks when one was trying to lay low. Gingerly, she traced the fresh cuts on her arms and cheek. The wounds were shallow, but had been enough to draw blood.

She had her lovely house-mate to thank for those.

Glancing at the mirror, Kuin shifted her head and caught a glimpse of herself through the open door, spread eagle on the bed. She fired back at the imposter, "What do you think, psycho? I'll try to style it differently from now on; it won't fool everyone, but it's the best I can do for now."

Toga manoeuvred herself to lie on her stomach, propping up her hands to support her chin. "I like this one better." She tangled her fringe with her forefinger, adding, "It's a shame you had dye it."

"What happens if you were to take my blood now? Would you still look the same?"

Toga shrugged. "I'unno. I usually take a lot at once or just a bit. No one's ever let me take their blood from them twice."

"I didn't let you anything. You came at me with a knife last night," Kuin cut in. "But for the sake of finding out…" She stepped out of the bathroom and into her room proper. "I'll let you have a few drops of my blood—just enough to test it."

Hope kindled in that all-too-familiar eye. Toga hastily got up on the bed, leaning forward on her knees. She looked giddy, feverish, when she said, "There's no one else in this world that gets me like you do, Kuin! You really are my friend!"

A part of Kuin did feel genuine pity for the girl, but she masked it with a small smile. Toga's childlike disposition wasn't an act; neither were those moments when she seemed more even-keeled. Her mental state made it almost impossible for Kuin to read her, much less manipulate. It was a dangerous tightrope to cross, especially considering Toga's sadistic tendencies. In the end, Kuin settled for what the girl had proposed when they first met.

A friendship.

It worked out. She knew there would be no going back to her previous life—that of Hachisuka Kuin; full-time student and part-time villain. It was time for her to commit, and she needed allies who could watch her back. Instead, she got a friend.

Life was funny that way…

When Toga produced a penknife from her skirt pocket, Kuin quickly shot her down. "Put that away. I'm not letting you cut me again."

Toga pouted but acquiesced.

Silently, Kuin directed one of her bees to pierce the back of her hand with its modified stinger. She pinched the skin together and allowed the blood to pool before holding it out to the girl.

Toga seemed unsure at first, but almost reverently, she took Kuin's hand in hers and dipped her head down to lap up the blood. Her disguise melted away in a wash of grey goo. It just as quickly re-solidified, and a carbon copy of the old Kuin sat in front of her—without the black hair and wounds that dotted her arms and cheek.

"Ah, so it doesn't work like that. I wonder what's the trigger point," Kuin wondered aloud. "Still, you have a really cool Quirk, Himiko."

Toga was preening under her praise. "Yeah! Yours is… Uh, I mean, most bugs are gross, but at least bees are cute. It's so awesome that they all live in your eye though." The girl used her fingers to pry her own swollen eye open, revealing the empty socket within. "Mine's empty though, right?"

"Yeah…" Kuin said. "Can you even see out of that eye?"

"Nahhh, not really. It's pretty freaky seeing the world with only one eye." Toga held a hand out, right where her blind spot was. "It must be hard not to bump into things."

"Not to mention the depth perception." Giran showed up at the door, dressed simply in a matching pair of shirt and slacks. He was holding his phone in one hand, texting. "Aren't you two a matching pair now?" he continued. "And to think you were going at it like cats and dogs last night. Heh… Puberty must be awful for girls your age, huh?"

Toga huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "We're sixteen!"

"Statement still stands."

Kuin was nonplussed. "What did you find out?"

Giran cocked an eyebrow, grinning. "I heard a few things about you here and there. The Shie Hassaikai put a pretty bounty on your head—more than enough to tempt me honestly. Although, they're offering less for information."

That explained why her texts to Nemoto went unanswered—she had been cut off. It wasn't entirely expected, but it still stung. They paid her well for her work, and the loss of funds would be a big concern down the line, less so the bounty on her head. Their influence only extended as far as Kanto. It wouldn't be an issue if she skipped out and moved to another region.

Kuin shook her head. "My money's still good here, Giran."

"It is… Hard to be relevant in my line of work if people don't trust you with their lives. Here's a kicker though: Slugger's alive and talking; they actually remanded him in a mental institution. Got this tip-off from an associate of mine inside the NPA. He was kind enough to send me pictures too." He tossed her his phone. "Say hello to Female A."

On it was a video still of her from the day before, captured during the altercation in the alley. Her sunglasses and black bomber jacket did help to hide her features and her figure, but it was her—clear as day. There were more as she scrolled through the phone; blurry security-camera footage, most likely from previous Trigger-related incidents. There wasn't much to go on, but they seemed to have matched her build and the profile of her face.

"So much you could do with technology these days," Giran said.

Toga giggled weakly and rubbed the back of her head. "That's how they got me too, I think."

Even though Kuin was already expecting this news, it did little to stop the unease churning in her stomach. Exhaling, she forced herself to remain calm and handed the phone back to Giran. "How much do they know?"

"They have a picture of you; that's enough. Right now, I'm guessing they're canvassing schools and universities within Tokyo. You have a few days tops, especially if you end up missing school. It won't be long before they find out who you are and show up at your doorstep. I'm guessing it might give your parents a very pleasant surprise."

"They'll live," Kuin mumbled distractedly. She bit her lip. "I need to leave Tokyo immediately. Could you make the arrangements, Giran?"

"What?!" Toga half-yelled. "You're gonna leave already? But we only just became friends!"

She smiled tightly at her doppelgänger. "Then, come with me, Himiko. We're pretty much in the same boat. This way we can watch each other's backs."

Toga's single eye widened and her mouth froze to form an 'O'. It looked for a moment that she was about to vehemently agree, but like a switch, she blinked then tilted her head to one side. "I came to Tokyo to meet Stain though. Giran promised me that he'd let me meet him."

"I said I'd try," Giran said. "I never promised you anything, girlie."

"The Hero Killer?" Kuin asked, aghast. "Why?"

"Yup!" Toga crowed. "He's my idol! I wanna kill him and wear his skin!"

Kuin suppressed a shudder. "Well, you know what they say about not meeting your idols, right? It's true," she muttered lowly. "I can tell you honestly that you're just going to be disappointed. Trust me, I've met him once."

Toga gasped and grabbed her by her arms. Her expression morphed into one of pure elation; it was weird, to say the least, having your own face do that so close to you. "Really?! Is he as dreamy up close?! Tell me! Tell me!"

Giran clapped his hands, forcibly drawing their attention back to him. "Oi, kids! Ease up! I don't have time for crazy right now, so I'll level with you, Kuin. You don't have a lot of options left. The police are on your tail, the yakuzas want your head, and I seriously don't think you can afford my services for much longer."

Kuin narrowed her eyes. "What are you getting at?"

Giran smiled. "It just so happens that a certain benefactor of mine is putting together a group of… like-minded individuals. I'm wondering if you'd be interested in joining."

* * *

0.0

* * *

"…and that's about it." Standing, Kaneko hung an arm around his neck and kneaded the muscles lightly. "Anyway, sorry for coming so late in the day. Like I said, it's been an absolute madhouse back at HQ because of what happened to Hanakawa and her team."

Now cleared of the need for a protective neck brace, Takeyama Yu sat on the foot of her bed, her legs dangling loosely over the edge. She nestled a finger on her chin, silently mulling it over. As more information regarding the Mass Trigger Incident in Odaiba trickled in from both visitors and the news alike, Yu would readily admit that things had taken a turn—not necessarily for the better.

"I'm not entirely sure how to take this."

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Kaneko asked. "You've been griping at me for weeks about wanting to get in on the case."

"Yeah, and they're using me to get to Minato." Yu scowled. "You said it yourself; they want him because of his Quirk."

"I didn't say _that_ in so many words, Takeyama." Kaneko pinched the bridge of his nose. "And you're saying that as if it's a bad thing—it's not. People are scared. They saw a Pro Hero get turned into a mindless villain by a bee; a bee of all things!"

He shook his head. "We just caught a huge break in this case. It's uncharted waters from here, and when smart villains get desperate, they get crazy. What if they changed tack and started actively targeting Pro Heroes instead of civilians? What if they get someone strong—someone like you with your Quirk and your training? Imagine if you hadn't been there to stop Slugger, think of—"

"All right, stop!" Yu held up a hand. She sighed deeply. "I get it. Just… stop doing the 'scary think of the consequences' cop, okay? Look, as much as I would like to be involved in the investigation, it's not my decision to make. I'll put it to Minato. Whatever he decides, I'll support him."

"Decide what?"

Of course, Minato chose that time to announce his presence, standing at the doorway to their ward.

Kaneko looked between the two of them. "Well, I'll leave you two to it then, Takeyama. I can't stay for much longer anyway; gotta head back to HQ and knuckle down. Here's hoping I see you soon." With that, the feline sent a casual salute behind his back, not before clapping Minato on his shoulder on the way out. "Take care of her for me, will you?"

"Thanks for the fruit basket!" she shouted at his retreating back.

Minato walked over and took a seat on her bed. "Anything I should know?"

"A few things, yeah. Thanks for earlier by the way—for letting me have the room." Yu stared at the empty doorway, noticing the lack of a third body. "Where's the princess?"

"It's almost eight. UA has a curfew," he told her. "She couldn't wait to get away."

Bless Itsuka's sweet and naive heart.

Given the state of their agency, with two of its only members sidelined, Itsuka's work internship had been officially cut short by UA. Despite that, her cute intern had seen to it to spend every waking minute by their side today. Of course, they learned quickly not to let her within reach of the fruit knife…

"What did you crazy kids end up doing?" she asked.

Minato shrugged. "We had dinner at the cafeteria, then I walked her to the entrance. Vlad King-sensei came by to pick her up." He glanced down at her food tray. "You barely touched your food."

"I wasn't in the mood. Just wanted to nibble."

Huh…

For once, they actually had a moment alone to themselves. The whole day they had been inundated with visitors, staff and medical examinations—all conspiring to prevent her from having a word with Minato in private. This was what she had been waiting for.

So why…

Why for the love of God was it so hard to speak now?!

Yu snapped her fingers. "By the way, how's your arm? Is it all—"

In response, Minato held his right hand up and clenched his fingers into a tight fist. He rotated his wrist and cracked it at the joint for good measure. "You're stalling and making small talk. This must be important."

Yu couldn't help it. She laughed. "Minato… Isn't it weird that we've only known each other for like what? A month? Slightly more than that? And you only started working at the agency last week."

"Why is that weird?"

"Because… Because I've had friendships that's lasted years, decades even, but I can't remember trusting anyone more than I trust you; not even any of my ex-boyfriends," Yu added, snorting derisively. "That's a bad comparison, but you get what I mean."

"I do," Minato said. "But it's two different things; trusting someone with your life and trusting them with your heart." He shrugged his shoulders. "There's plenty that I trust with the first, but only one that I trust with the second."

There it was again…

That look.

"I'm not sure if you know this, but there are times when you get this little," she motioned to her eye, the one not covered by the medical patch, "look in your eyes. Not always. Sometimes, I catch you smiling to yourself, but when you tend to get lost in that head of yours, your eyes get a bit… haunted."

He seemed genuinely surprised. "Really?"

"We've spent most of our time in the last month together, Minato. Just the two of us," she told him. "Yes, really. It's something I'm noticing more and more."

"I've been having trouble adjusting to the new schedule," he said. "Maybe I was just tired."

Yu thinned her lips. "Please don't insult me like that. I'm not an idiot. In fact, there's a few things about you that don't add up, and it has everything to do with your past—because that's the only thing you're withholding."

He was quiet, but he didn't tear his gaze away from hers.

"I can see that it's hard for you to share those details of your life, and I won't ever press you for it, Minato," she said. "But I do want to know more about you because it seems like whatever happened in your past is a big part of who you are as a person. If you need time, then I'll wait; I'll wait for however long it is until you're ready. I just need you to know that I care about you—a lot."

Yu reached out and placed a hand over his, squeezing it. "I know it goes without saying, but… thank you, Minato."

Something burned in her eyes and she tried to blink it away. Hospitals were really stuffy at night, and she had allergies, which explained why her throat was so tight when she tried to swallow.

"T-Thank you for saving my life, Minato."

Yu tugged at his hand and motioned him into a hug. He silently reciprocated and allowed her to bury her face into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled. "I have really bad allergies."

"Of course you do," he said softly.

"I'm allergic to hospitals."

She could sense him rolling his eyes at her when he spoke, "Then, let's go up to the roof and get some fresh air. It should be easy to sneak past the nurses' station at this hour."

"Stop being so cool about it, Minato." Sniffing, Yu pushed him away and rubbed at her eye to clear the last few drops of her allergies. "And don't get hurt doing stupid things again, even if you have a stupidly powerful Quirk— _especially_ because you have a stupidly powerful Quirk…"

"I won't." He sighed. "That reminds me; how's your eye? I did what I could after the fight, but I was exhausted. It shouldn't be a problem to heal it now if you're uncomfortable."

Yu waved him away. "Worry about yourself, dummy. Didn't Miura-sensei tell you not to overstress your Quirk?"

This time she could actually see him roll his eyes. "I'm feeling better now. Just let me see."

He reached forward, his right hand disappearing into her blind spot. Yu felt his fingers brush away her hair, to try and undo the medical patch over her left eye, and something within her just… snapped.

 _A wide and empty grin._

 _A sad and mocking sneer._

 _Rough hands pulling her hair tight and yanking her forward._

Yu flinched and smacked his hand away, perhaps more forcefully than she intended. She stared at him, mortified. Her mouth quivered as she struggled to find her words.

"Yu… Yu, it's okay. Look at me."

Minato sounded distant despite being right in front of her.

She was breathing heavily. In fact, that was all she could hear; the sounds of her own ragged breaths. Yu was only partly aware that Minato was still trying to calm her down. Although this time, he made sure to keep his hands in full view.

 _Fuck._

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"I… I'm so sorry." Her voice had never sounded quite so small and shaky to her ears. "I-I didn't mean to do that."

Minato smiled lightly, although she could see how pained it was. "I know you didn't. It's okay. Let's get out of here. We can go up to the—"

The shrill blare of emergency sirens resounded in the distance, cutting him off. They held each other's gaze in that moment, and Yu saw his pained smile wither away; he looked resigned. Like a switch, she shot to her feet and marched for the windows, flinging them open. The sirens were near deafening at this point; she spied a broadcast tower on top of a nearby building.

"That's the Public Warning System," she said, her features grim. "Hosu's under attack."

* * *

 _Minor Arcana: Pentacles (V)  
_

* * *

 _ **Side Note(s):** Big ups to NonBenevolentPotato for his help with this chapter!  
_

 _This chapter was given to all y'all as a gift to commemorate the release of Pokemon SwSh! If anyone here is playing, come hit me up separately! I would love to crush your hopes and destroy you!_

* * *

 _ **Extra (A): And so, Daruma Ujiko visits an old patient…**_

* * *

Daruma Ujiko straightened himself, setting his stethoscope aside, and looked at the scarred and hideous visage of his master. Had he blinked, he could have imagined staring into light-coloured eyes and strong, masculine features. Even in the dark, the room scarcely illuminated by the glare of a computer monitor, he could feel a cold, piercing gaze wash over him.

Despite himself, Daruma had to fight back a shiver before it eventually passed.

"With each passing day," he said. "I fear what I might find when I enter this room, Shigaraki-sensei. Will I be greeting the man I admire most? Or will it simply be his remains?"

All For One chuckled, low and raspy. "You exaggerate, good doctor."

"It is justified. There is some cause for concern that a man who is supposedly immortal may, in fact, pass on before me. I will have to start you on a new regimen of antibiotics and—"

"Spare me the details," All For One said. "That's not the reason why I called for you."

He frowned. "I could never understand why you would put your health second to the whims of your wayward student."

All For One leaned back into his seat, stroking a hand on his chin. "In all my years walking this earth, I've learned that there is only one constant in this world, Daruma. It's death. You can hope to delay it, but you cannot stop what is essentially inevitable. There has only been one instance which I've seen death be defied so blatantly. It is perhaps fitting that the man who did it shared my blood."

"One For All," Daruma said softly.

"The only real means to fight death is to create a legacy. That is why I must nurture young Tomura—to allow him to reach his full potential. His age makes him short-sighted and feckless; only experience and time can curb his proclivities and temper his conviction. I ask that you do the same. Lend him your aid."

Daruma adjusted his goggles and coughed into his hand. "If that is truly what you wish, then I will comply, but know that I still judge him unworthy of your legacy. Perhaps one day he may come good and prove me wrong, but until that day arrives, I will only act if it's at your behest."

"A compromise then."

"Yes," Daruma said. "I could use some field data on the new prototypes. I am willing to offer him five of my children. They may be prototypes, but all are fully operational and have been outfitted with my latest creation. I consider them to be at least on par with the Mid-End Nomu that was sent to destroy All Might, albeit none were designed to counter the Symbol of Peace so perfectly like that one was."

"Trigger must be a remarkable compound then," All For One said. "I wonder what kind of effect it would have on someone like me."

"I would not recommend it, Shigaraki-sensei. Not yet, at least. I have yet to discern the impact it may have on your body, much less your mind. In fact, I am running low on test subjects as it is."

All For One waved him away. "There are but a few suitable candidates, especially given your extensive requirements. Kurogiri has brought two to my attention recently. I've asked him to investigate them further, seeing how these two are especially high-risk targets. I may even be tempted to take one for myself." He pressed a button at his side and spoke aloud, "Bring up the files Kurogiri sent this morning."

The computer complied with his request with a ding, and a text-to-speech software read the profiles in a pleasant but synthetic female voice for the benefit of his master.

Daruma didn't need to listen.

On the screen, side by side, were two photographs.

One was a woman with long green hair and large yellow eyes. She was in costume; a ridiculous yellow eyesore of an outfit with matching cat paws. He knew who she was. The Pro Hero: Ragdoll. She had an exceptionally unique Quirk, one that allowed her to observe and monitor individuals around her, as well as discern their weaknesses.

She wouldn't do much for him as a test-subject; her potential was painfully lacking in that regard.

The other was far more interesting.

It was a blue-haired boy wearing the colours of UA…

* * *

 ** _Extra (B): And so, Kendo Itsuka's teenage romantic comedy takes an unexpected turn…_**

* * *

Kendo Itsuka saw herself as an approachable and easy-going person.

That was one of the reasons why she could make friends with pretty much anyone. Back in school, she counted both seniors and students from other departments in that circle of friends. She was well-regarded because of it; which was why her class-mates had made her the class representative.

That role was one she took pride in.

She wasn't the strongest in her class, neither was she the smartest, but the vote had been near unanimous—with the sole exception of her vote for Shoda. Itsuka never saw it as a popularity contest. Instead, she took it as a measure of the faith her fellow trainees had in her ability to lead. That was something that she was unfortunately doing at the moment; leading someone—one Yaoyorozu Momo.

In an effort to escape the nightmare of being incessantly needled by both Yu and Midnight-sensei, she had volunteered to get tea for everyone. Strangely, her newly-proclaimed rival decided to tag along and help her.

Halfway to the vending machine at the end of the hallway, Yaoyorozu decided to talk about the elephant they left behind in the room.

"I must apologise for Nejire-senpai's behaviour. She doesn't mean anything bad by it. She's just… She can be a little eccentric."

"Oh, you don't have to apologise," Itsuka said. "I've met her once, so I know how she gets. Honestly, I think we got off on the wrong foot." She smiled lightly, then bowed. "Kendo Itsuka, from 1-B. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Yaoyorozu's smile was bright as she returned the bow. "My name is Yaoyorozu Momo, from Class 1-A. The pleasure is mine, Kendo-san. I hope we can get along."

When they reached the vending machine, the kind that dispensed the drinks in those small paper cups, Itsuka grabbed a handful of coins from her coin purse and methodically went about ordering tea for the visitors. A brief back-and-forth ensued when Yaoyorozu offered to pay, but the girl when ultimately overruled when Itsuka told her that it was Yu's treat.

Ever the eager beaver, Yaoyorozu surreptitiously produced a small tray and pulled it from the exposed slit in her costume that ran from her neck and down past her navel. She didn't seem embarrassed at all baring her skin so brazenly; not that the girl had anything to be ashamed of.

It did make her a bit envious…

"So," Itsuka said, placing a steaming cup down on the tray. "I heard from Minato-senpai that you're interning with a 'Top Ten' Pro Hero. What's that like?"

"Ryukyu-sama is amazing," Yaoyorozu said. "She has an agency with a dozen sidekicks under her charge, and she still finds time to mentor a junior intern like me. I mostly had to shadow Nejire-senpai's day-to-day this whole week to get acclimated to the schedule. It was daunting, but everything that I've experienced so far has been nothing short of eye-opening."

"Mine was… similar? Mount Lady was busy, but she did what she could when she could. I tagged along with Minato-senpai pretty much the whole time. I can't say I learned a whole lot about the life of sidekick, but I did learn quite a bit from sparring with him."

Momo's eyes sparkled with delight. "It was the same for me! He's a quick study, isn't he? We've been sparring partners for almost two months now, and I still find something new to learn each time."

"Then I guess you got used to getting your butt handed to you too. I lost more times than I can count, but I made him work for his wins." Itsuka swiped the tip of her nose with a thumb. "Got four myself…"

"You actually won?" Yaoyorozu was blinking—a lot. "How?"

She grinned. "You have to gas him out. He'll try to make excuses about wanting to grab a drink or even play dead to catch his breath, but you can't let up and give him a break. My dad's a karate instructor; he did that a lot to me when I was growing up."

"It sounds a bit underhanded…"

Itsuka shrugged, saying, "A win is a win. My dad always says that a villain won't ever be kind enough to give you time to collect yourself, so use whatever advantage you have to end a fight decisively."

Yaoyorozu was nodding to herself. "That's a very astute observation."

"Plus, I've seen the things he could do with his Quirk. Trust me. The only way you could ever hope to beat him is to be underhanded."

Yaoyorozu put a finger to her chin, drawing her eyes up at the ceiling in thought. "Personally, I've only ever seen him use it once, when he had a remedial session with our class; he transformed his bokken into this sword made out of fire. It was… quite a sight to behold," she said, shuddering. "Although, I have seen the videos that people posted online."

"Oh, was it that one UwUTuber eating at a ramen bar?" Itsuka asked. "Yeah, the guy caught a bit of the action when Minato-senpai turned his weapon into this war hammer and spammed lightning all over the place. He called it 'Meow-nyaa' or something." Itsuka grimaced, scrunching her nose at the memory. "Senpai is great and all, but he's still got a bit of middle-school syndrome in him."

"Ah," Yaoyorozu muttered, sighing. "Like with his hero name."

They both hung their head down, dejected.

Placing the final cup of tea on the tray, Itsuka motioned silently as they made their way back to the ward. "Still, if only you could have seen the power behind that last attack of his. It was… otherworldly. He's like a mini-All Might in the making." She shook her head. "UA is just insane. I heard Nejire-senpai was one of the 'Big Three' in school? Is she anywhere as strong as him?"

"I've never seen Nejire-senpai fight with her Quirk, at least not in a life-or-death situation. Our patrols in Ueno are generally quiet," Yaoyorozu explained. "The only reason why we got approval from Ryukyu-sama to come to Hosu was because senpai arranged to have a community outreach with the terminally-ill patients in this hospital. She does it quite often—letting others fly with her."

"She has a good heart, huh?" Itsuka asked.

Yaoyorozu's smile was soft and wistful. "Nejire-senpai and Ryukyu-sama are alike in many ways. I can't help but look up to the both of them. I only hope that I can measure up to their expectations of me."

As Itsuka slid open the door to their ward, they were simultaneously greeted by a cue of raucous laughter and Nejire's cutesy whine.

"Arisato~~!" Nejire pouted heatedly. "Come! On!"

The older girl had taken to the air, and she was hovering in place above Minato's bed, her hands locked around his uninjured wrist. Minato had purposely laid himself flat out, intent on becoming a dead-weight. Still, Nejire was persistent enough to tug him to the edge of his bed, where half of his upper-body was now dangling over a precarious drop.

"I can…! Show you the world!" Nejire said, grunting with each tug of his arm. "Its shining…! Shimmering…! Splendour!"

Itsuka turned to her new friend, her features dearth. "What was that you were saying before?"

"Awawawa! Nejire-senpai! Please let Minato-senpai go!"

* * *

 ** _IX Extra (C): And so, Usagiyama Rumi tries to find her way in this city…_**

* * *

"Mirko-san," the Public Safety Commission stooge said. "I would appreciate it if we could get back to the matter at hand?"

Usagiyama Rumi scowled and leaned over the side of her lounge chair. The bespectacled man in the black suit was blocking her view of the television. It was the much vaunted pay-per-view event of the year; the Honour Fighting Championships Grand Prix. It marked the return of her long-time favourite—Mikhail 'Bro Cop'.

Like hell, she was going to miss a second of it.

Rumi slammed her utensils down on her plate of blue flower tofu with black truffle-infused wild carrots, and glared at him. "If you don't get outta the way, I'm gonna stomp your face."

He was nonplussed. "That specially-prepared vegan meal that you ordered from room service, it cost four-thousand yen, inclusive of consumption tax."

"Right leg, hospital!" Rumi growled, then pointed to the front of her limited edition 'Bro-Cop' t-shirt. "Left leg, cemetery!"

"Yes, yes… Very catchy," the man said, looking down at his tablet. "But this pay-per-view event you're watching, it's one-time payment of six-thousand yen." He looked around. "And this 'Superior Twin' room that you strong-armed my most recent predecessor to book for you—a four-star hotel no less, right in the heart of Hosu—costs more than twenty-thousand yen per night."

Languidly, Rumi took a sip of her beer.

He motioned to the minibar. "I checked that too. Adding up all the alcoholic beverages and snacks that you've consumed… that totals to almost eight-thousand yen."

"Grrrgh… Just say what you have to say already!" Rumi snapped. "I don't have all night!"

The man sighed. "Mirko-san, as your new liaison, it is important that we be able to develop an amicable working relationship. You've went through dozens of liaisons in the last four years; by my count, I am number eighty-seven. All this while, the PSC have been more than lenient with your… vagabond-styled approach to hero work, even to the extent of stepping in to manage the affairs of your one-woman agency."

"I thought we had an understanding," Rumi said. "I do what I want, when I want. In return, I'll play nice when you guys call me up for placements."

"Don't you yearn for something more, Mirko-san?"

Rumi pulled her ears down under her chin. "Ughhh… What more do you people want from me? I'm here in Tokyo, aren't I?! Because of your stupid Trigger Special Task Force bullcrap!"

"You're too narrow-minded," he said. "I can help you further your career; to help you be more visible in the public eye. Do what you've always done throughout your career—be loud, be aggressive, _win_. Your brand is unique and plays well to a demographic that we've consistently failed to engage; one that calls out for strong female Pro Heroes. With a bit more nuance out in the field and a better control of your… _excesses_ ," he held his hands out to the room, "the PSC will surely back you to break into the 'Top Ten' ranking this year."

Rumi stilled. "What…?"

He smiled knowingly. "For four years, you've been at it, not once were you ever able to break that glass ceiling; the closest you ever got was 'No. 12', am I right? It's a shame. You've done a lot of good work this year, but that journeyman tag will keep hounding you because you're playing the whole game wrong. I can help you with that, Mirko-san. Of course, a favour given is a favour owed. It's not quite quid pro quo. That's become such an ugly word lately that—"

Rumi bit the inside of her cheek and clenched her fists. When she spoke, her jaw was tight:

"Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"I said: _Get_. _The_. _Fuck_. _Out._ "

The man adjusted his spectacles and frowned. "I will not. As a representative of the PSC, I have every right to be in this hotel room; we paid for your accommodations, on top of everything else you've put on credit. You will not force me out of this room, _Mirko_."

Rumi stared at him flatly, then shrugged. "Fine." She pulled off her limited edition 'Bro-Cop' t-shirt over her shoulders, revealing the modest sports bra beneath, and walked over to the wardrobe.

"W-What are you doing?!"

Her fingers lingered on the drawstring of her sweatpants. She turned to him. "I'm changing into my costume. If I catch you peeking, I'll gouge your eyes out. Trust me on that."

The man slapped his hand forcefully over his eyes. "U-Use the bathroom! This is highly inappropriate!"

Her costume was easy to slip into; what was the point of wearing a leotard if it wasn't? As Rumi tacked on the accessorial pieces of her costume, she started dumping her belongings into her carry-on luggage and duffel bag.

"Are you done?! I can hear you walking around the room!"

She was, but it was funnier to watch him stand there like an idiot. Rumi grinned despite herself. "Are you a gambling man?" she asked. "Care to stake your eyes on that bet? Besides, it's not like I didn't tell you to get out. You had your warning."

"I'm not an idiot!" he hissed. "You only want me out of this room so you could watch your fight!"

With the last of her belongings packed, Rumi threw one last longing look at 'Bro Cop' and pulled her luggage and bag to the door. She sighed.

"Listen… Whatever underhanded shit your superiors put you up to try and mess with me, tell them to do it on their own time. A lackey like you ain't smart enough to pull any of this off. So all this shit about the room and the food and drinks, tell those dipshits that they can shove it up their asses—unless they like that, then tell them to shove it down their throats."

"You can't leave this investigation!" the man yelled. "This goes as high up as the Prime Minister's Office! I could—"

"The only reason why I agreed to come to Tokyo and help with this Trigger nonsense was as a favour to Mera. I gave my word to that zombie, and I won't renege on it. So, if I hear some other weird shit being said, I'll know that it came from you…"

Rumi threw the door open with a _'slam'_. The man, still blindfolding himself, cried out in surprise and crumpled to the floor. When he stared up at her, she bared her teeth at him and smiled.

"Then, I'll come find you. Get it?"

He nodded shakily.

"That's a good wittle wabbit…" Rumi mocked. She smiled again, this time a more congenial one, and left the room with her luggage in tow. Once she made it to the elevator lobby and checked that the coast was clear, Rumi, with a smile still frozen on her face, proceeded to slam her forehead into a wall.

 _Oh, God._

Where the fuck was she supposed to sleep now?

For the last few years, she had gotten accustomed to living in the lap of luxury that came with the financial backing of the Public Safety Commission. Being able to charge even the most trivial of expenses as her per diem allowance meant that she had been superfluous with her own money—she had spent it mostly on ludicrously expensive booze…

The idiocy of her youth hit her like a bag of bricks; she thwacked her head harder into the wall. As the elevator chimed, signalling its arrival, Rumi tried to recall who she knew that lived in the city—and who she could potentially mooch off of.

Mera came to mind immediately. After all, it was because of him that she was even in Tokyo in the first place. He had been her very first Public Safety Commission liaison when she started her career, and went the distance for more than a year; it was only after Mera left that the revolving door of stooges began. Unfortunately, the man just welcomed a baby into his life, and she would much rather live on the streets than get near that hot mess.

The only other person was…

Rumi blinked. "Huh, didn't she get her ass beat or something?" she asked herself, sighing. "I really should get out there and make more friends…"


End file.
